Support
by Leonaria Dragonbane
Summary: Sabretooth never asked to be a father  but when his accountant dies and leaves him three months late on the child support he has to investigate.  What he finds stirs old memories, and new dangers. Can a Sabretooth change his stripes?  Complete
1. Chapter 1

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. This is a one shot - it may expand I don't know but for now it's finished. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say. As happened with other one shots - it may get more work depending on feedback, or I may let it die...hint hint.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She was sitting in her office, coffee and her temper cooling at about the same rate. Three months. He was three months late. She'd had to take extra jobs, work extra over time to make up for it, to make sure Natalie didn't know her dad was a deadbeat. She stared at the phone, willing the bastard to call.

The phone was silent. She picked it up and dialed the accountant's number. Still disconnected; she dialed his cell, and hesitated over the send button. She really didn't want to talk to him, but Nat was asking why they were eating so much mac and cheese. Six hundred dollars a month wasn't a lot, but it took care of the little things, like groceries, and doctor's co pays, and dental retainer to hide her developing fangs. She was making the ends meet, but there were definite corners being cut to do it.

She glared at the phone, and hit the button. She put it to her ear and listened. Ring. She breathed during each pause; she almost hoped he wouldn't pick up. Ring. He was such an ass. If she hadn't been so damned STUPID she wouldn't be in this situation, having to deal with him. Ring. Not that Nat was a mistake, she wasn't, and the whole situation was just stupid. Ring.

"You've reached the phone of Victor Creed. Leave a message at the tone and I will get back to you as soon as I can." He didn't SOUND like the highest paid assassin in the world, not on the phone.

"It's Dana. Three months, Victor. You are three months behind. I want a check and I want it here NOW!" She hissed into the phone. She really shouldn't be trying to handle this at work; she didn't want the lieutenant walking in while she was dealing with personal issues. She clicked the phone shut and put it back into her pocket.

She opened the file on her desk and started trying to make sense of the uniformed officers' reports. She had an interview with one of the witnesses this afternoon and needed to make sure she had all the facts. Thirty-three year old male; three gunshot wounds to the chest; eye witness claimed to see a strange looking figure leave the scene. She was getting more and more reports of "strange looking figures" and didn't like it. She pulled out her pocket notebook and started making notes of relevant information.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She almost didn't answer it, but thought it might be Nat.

"Wallis." She said simply.

"Three months? What the fuck is Frank doing?" He snarled in her ear.

"I don't know – I don't care, I'm a month late on the dental payments because YOU can't be bothered to keep track of your accountant. Get me the money Victor." She snapped.

"I told you – I'll take care of it, what do you owe the dentist?"

"Just pay what the court said to pay – I don't want ANYTHING else from you."

"Dana." He growled.

"I'm not in the mood Victor. I'm in the middle of a case."

"You're always in the middle of a case. I'm not in town. Let me find out what's going on, and I'll have Frank drop a check by your office."

"I don't care where you are; just take care of your responsibilities." She hissed. "I have to go."

"I'll call ya." He purred into the phone.

"Don't bother – just get me that check." She ground out and slammed the phone shut. She'd been given a generous paternity settlement, the child support, and he got no visitation, which was fine with her. She didn't want him anywhere near her daughter; Nat was too much like him as it was. She hoped he'd keep his word – and send the accountant. Seeing him always made her angry, and it was never good to be angry around Victor Creed.

She went back to the file.

"Hey – you ready." Her partner, Avery, stuck his head in the door.

"Yeah, just one sec." She jotted down another note, and closed the file and slipped it into the drawer of her desk.

"You okay – you're looking a little ragged." He said as they walked to the car.

"Just a little strapped for cash – dentist hounding me about payments, and the dick is late on support." They didn't know WHO the dick was, and she kept it that way.

"Want me to go lean on him?"

"No. I'm taking care of it." She said.

"Your ex is a real piece of work." Avery said.

"You have no idea." She replied, and flipped open the notebook to go over her notes again.

"Leslie wants you and Nat to come to the house this weekend, kids can play and we can dig out the cards, maybe play some poker." Avery said. He had been a good partner these last three years – and she liked his wife. His daughter Gwen and Nat were good friends.

"Sure. I don't have any plans." She smiled. A weekend to relax – especially if he caught up what he was supposed to – was just what the doctor ordered.

Her phone started vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and groaned. It was Victor again.

"WHAT! I'm in the middle of something." She snapped.

"Frank can't drop the check by." He growled.

"Why?"

"He's dead."

"WHAT!?"

"Heart attack. I've been out of the country so I didn't know. I'll get it taken care of."

"You do that."

"You really are a heartless bitch sometimes." He snarled at her.

"Well it beats what you are – just get me that money, I don't care how." She said sharply.

"I'll need some time."

"I don't HAVE time."

"Alright – I'll do what I can, SHIT! I don't need this crap, you aren't the only one in the middle of something."

"Drop it – trust me, whoever you are doing will thank you." Avery snorted. She let him think what he wanted.

"You bitch…"

"Bastard. There all done. GET ME THAT CHECK!" She snapped the phone closed again.

"He can't be THAT bad…you got Nat out of the deal." Avery laughed.

"Yes he can…" She muttered. Avery just laughed again.

"Then we NEED to get you laid."

"Shut up and drive." She snapped at her partner.

XXXXXXXX

"Three months, you didn't call me for three months Marjorie?" He snapped.

"Frank didn't have your number where I could find it, Victor. Believe me I looked." The older woman said.

"Tell me my records are in order."

"They are."

"Then WHY is my child support check three months over due?"

"Frank always handled that transaction personally, a hand written check, and a hand written account book. He always hid them, and I haven't been able to find them. He said you didn't want it traced back to your corporate accounts."

"He was right, I don't. Who's taking over my account?"

"David Berm, he's new in the office."

"Put me through to him, and LOOK for those books." He snapped. There was a click on the phone, then.

"Berm."

"Victor Creed, I understand you inherited my account." He said, trying not to bite the new guy's head off - yet.

"Ahh, yes. Mr. Creed. Your accounts are in order, I assure you."

"That's not what my daughter's mother says. She hasn't gotten her support check since Frank died." He said softly. He didn't want to frighten the kid, not yet. Frank had handled his affairs for years.

"I don't show any record of a support check from any of your accounts, Mr. Creed. I have it all right here on the computer in front of me."

"I have an account – an old fashioned one, not on the computer. She's paid out of that one. Hand kept books, hand checks." He said.

"I haven't seen anything like that."

"I don't want my support tied to my corporate accounts. I don't want people knowing she's my kid." He said simply.

"I am certain we can work something out. How much are we talking?"

"Eighteen hundred dollars."

"That's not that much, I can do a petty cash expenditure for that amount, and you can pay her cash this time, until we find the other account book." David said. He could hear him punching keys.

"She won't accept cash – it has to be a check, by court order." He said.

"Oh…can it be a cashier's check, or something, not made out to support?"

"No."

"And she needs it?"

"Yesterday."

"Oh. Can I put you on hold?"

"Sure." He looked down at the body at his feet. He HATED being put on hold while he was trying to work. He kicked the plastic sheet over the body. All the blood was contained within it, so clean up wouldn't be hard. It was a nice kill, not as nice as some – but a nice kill.

"We found it; I'll have that check out to her in this afternoon's mail."

"No, it has to be hand delivered – to her office." He said.

"Where is her office?"

"I don't know the address – downtown, police headquarters." He said.

"Oh."

"Detective Dana Wallis."

"Oh. Got it. We'll get it to her today."

"Thank you, I need to get back to work." He snapped the phone shut. He was going to have to break in a new accountant, damn it; first Dana – now this.

He'd been surprised to see her number on the screen when she'd called. It had been three years since the last time she'd called. Then it was about the dentist and the retainer and him getting pissed because she was trying to hide what Nat was. He didn't know how to deal with her so he let it go to voice mail. He'd listened to her voice, let it flow over him. She didn't know how her voice affected him, even after all these years, and he wasn't going to let her know. He liked her angry – angry meant passion, and if he could get her alone passion meant great sex.

Of course that's what got him into this mess in the first place – great sex. She'd arrested him; had him in an interrogation room. He still wasn't sure how she caught him, he NEVER left anything behind. She denied being a mutant so there had to be something. It had been bugging him for nearly eleven years, and she wouldn't tell him.

Truth be told she wouldn't speak to him unless she had to. She must really hate him, or herself, or both for what happened. His attorney managed to get them to release him, but she wouldn't let it go. She was tenacious, like a terrier. She'd tracked him to his hotel room, with more questions – questions he refused to answer, but he'd had a few of his own.

He'd figured out quickly what her buttons were, and how to push them. It wasn't long before she'd slapped him, hard, and he'd let go with a grin. He'd pinned her to the wall, and kissed her, and might have left it there, but she kissed him back. She'd snuck out of his room the next morning, a little bruised and worse for wear, but - he'd thought – satisfied. He certainly had been.

He hadn't thought much more about it, sex was just sex after all - until the paternity suit a year later. He hadn't contested it – and was regretting some of that now. He'd like to see her, his cub. He looked down at the plastic wrapped body at his feet. This job was done; time to go home.

XXXXXXX

The check was on her desk when she got back. She heaved a sigh of relief; she'd be able to take care of things now. She pulled her file out of the desk, and made a few notes. It was almost end of shift, and this case could wait until tomorrow, Nat had a ballet recital this evening, and she didn't want to miss it.

She stopped by the bank and deposited the check, stopped by the dentist's office and paid the balance on the bill, and apologized for being late. Tonight, she and Nat were going out to dinner. She grinned, she hated counting on his money, and she could get by without it, but it made things nicer for her daughter, and he was her father, after all.

She pulled into the dance school parking lot. She waved at some of the other mothers there and walked in. She sat in the auditorium and waited. She felt a sudden chill, and looked around. Something was off. She just couldn't place it. Something had the hackles on the back of her neck stand up. She kept glancing around the room through the whole recital.

"MOMMY!" Nat came running up after; she had a huge bouquet of flowers in her hand. "THANK YOU!" She squealed.

"I didn't…where did you get those?"

"They were back stage. Here's the card." She handed her the slip of heavy paper.

NAT, BREAK A LEG! LOVE YOU, MOM

"Well – are…they are beautiful." She would get to the bottom of it later. Maybe her mother had taken care of it, because she usually took care of that kind of thing. "What do you want for dinner?"

"NOT Mac and cheese."

"Ok – how about Chinese."

"We can go OUT!" Nat jumped up and down. "PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! "

"Alright – out it is." She grinned. Her hackles seemed to be settling down, so she just guided the hyper ten year old to the car. They drove to the restaurant, and Nat chattered about the recital and the girls and boys in her dance class. Dana just listened and enjoyed being with her daughter, and being able to relax.

They made it home in time for Nat to get her bath and get ready for school the next morning. Dana washed up the few dishes and called her mother to thank her for thinking of the flowers.

"I didn't send them, Dana." Her mother said. Dana's hackles started to rise again.

"The card said, NAT, BREAK A LEG! I LOVE YOU, MOM." She said.

"I didn't send them."

"Well who did?"

"Call the florist in the morning, if they were paid by credit card you can find out." Her mother said.

"I am planning on it." She had a few other tricks she could use too.

She went upstairs and tucked Nat into bed.

"Mom I really love the flowers." She said, looking at the bouquet in a vase on her dresser.

"They are beautiful." She said, and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. Nat pulled her retainer out, the one that hid the fangs and grinned at her mother before putting it on the nightstand.

"Night Mom."

"Night Baby." She said as she clicked off the light. Nat didn't need a night light, never had, not with her father's eyes. Contact lenses were still a few years away, luckily very few people looked at her that closely, she was still just a kid.

She went back down stairs and finished straightening up the house. She turned on the news, just in time for the weather. She NEVER watched the headlines; she got enough of those at work. She locked up the front and back doors, and made sure the alarm was set.

She stuck her nose in to make sure Nat was asleep, before going into the bathroom and getting a shower. She always felt dirty when she had to talk to Victor. She stood under the hot water, and lathered up her luffa and scrubbed, she scrubbed until her skin was raw, until the hot water stung against the small cuts bleeding on her arms. She didn't know why it did this to her. She didn't regret it because it gave her Nat, she just felt like she was covered in filth any and every time she talked to him.

She climbed out of the shower and looked at her arms. She'd be wearing long sleeves to work tomorrow, to hide the scabs. She pulled on her bathrobe and let the damp terry cloth absorb the small amount of blood from her arms. Nat would never know. She thought her dad was a business man, who didn't have time for them, and Dana would rather have it that way. She didn't need to know the truth.

She opened the door to her bedroom and crossed the room in the dark. She pulled clean underwear and a t-shirt out of the drawer by feel and slipped the robe to the floor to dress for bed.

"DAMN!" She jumped and grabbed the robe.

"What are YOU doing here? You aren't supposed to be anywhere near us." She snarled – almost as well as he did.

"I wanted to make sure you got the check." He said.

"I thought you said you weren't in town?" She held the robe in front of her as she faced the chair he was sitting in. He reached over and turned on the light.

"That better. Get dressed. I own a jet, Dana, I flew in to take care of this mess."

"Fine, it's taken care of – now get out." She didn't want to look at him. She hadn't seen him in over ten years, not in person.

"I want to see her."

"It violates your settlement." She snapped.

"She's my daughter, I want to see her. You can't stop me, you know that." He stood up, and it took every bit of her training not to back down from him.

"She's asleep." She said.

"I know; I hear her breathing." He said softly. "She was good on stage tonight."

"You were there?"

"Who the hell do you think sent the flowers, I figured you'd forget. There's NOTHING about my daughter I don't know." He snarled. "Now I want to see her."

"She's down the hall, don't wake her up." She snapped.

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I'm not authorizing visitation."

"I'll take you back to court." He said simply.

"Somehow, that's just not your style." She snapped as she tried to pull her underwear on behind the robe. This wasn't the most dignified meeting she'd ever had.

"Drop the robe – it ain't like I ain't seen what you got." He said with a laugh. "Seen and sampled."

"Bastard." She said, but dropped the robe and tried to pull her clothes on with some shred of dignity.

"Nope, my parents were married." He said, glancing toward the door. She didn't like his implication.

"You are NOT getting visitation. I will pull everything I have on you into court, you'll be lucky if they don't lock you up and throw away the key."

"All pardoned – can't use any of it any more, Baby. I'm clean and clear." He said with a smirk.

"How'd you pull that off?"

He flashed a badge at her. "Federal Marshall, We're on the same side – for now."

"I'll believe that when I see something real." She said.

"Okay." He tossed some papers on the end of the bed, and walked back to his chair.

She picked them up…a presidential pardon, blanket for anything and everything he'd ever done, in his LIFE! A federal commission card and ID, his federal badge, with number, and – she'd be damned – business cards, Victor Creed, US Marshall, Denver Office.

"Who'd you screw to get that?"

"Myself – but don't worry about it, it won't touch Nat."

"Pardon me if I call and verify all of this."

"Go right ahead." He leaned back in the chair, and rested his head along the back, as if he were tired. She knew better. He had more stamina and endurance than fifty normal men. She called the office and read the numbers off, along with his name. She heard a sharp intake of breath from the night records clerk – but she started running them.

"My GOD, Dana – it checks out. His rap sheet is GONE – even his arrest from eleven years ago, and all the federal stuff checks out."

"Good enough." He snarled.

"Thanks." She hung up.

"This doesn't change a thing." She said.

"Oh yes it does. You don't have a damned thing on me, nothing you can make stick in court, so if I want to see my kid – I'll get it." He snarled.

"What do you really want?" She snapped. She forgot how fast he could move, he had her pinned to the wall in seconds.

"You." He whispered, his hands gripping her arms, claws scraping her already raw skin. He looked down and noticed.

"What's this?"

"Shower."

"Bullshit." He stepped back and pulled her arms into the light. The blood had smeared a bit from the robe, but was starting to dry.

"You don't shower like this every day." He said, "There'd be scars."

"No – only when I have to deal with you – now I need another shower." She said, and he flinched. He actually flinched.

"Don't do it again." He hissed.

"That's not for you to say." She pulled her arm back against his grip, the edges of his claws cutting into her skin.

"Dana." He whispered, pulling her against his chest. "Don't do it again." He leaned down and captured her mouth with his.

This was what got her in trouble in the first place – the man could kiss, damn him. She fought as long as she could, but she couldn't resist him for long. He had her pressed against the wall again, hands stroking her arms and down her sides, his lips grinding against hers, demanding she respond with everything she had – and she did. Her hands slipped from his and tangled in his hair, her tongue and lips demanded him, and she could feel herself slipping down that slippery slope, the one that ended with them in bed and him in their lives.

"We can't do this." She whispered, raggedly.

"Why not?" His hands were under her T-shirt, stroking her skin; his shirt was open with her hands pressed against his chest.

"Nat." She said simply.

"What does she have to do with this?" He said, leaning down to kiss her again.

"What if she walks in, how are we going to explain this?"

"Hi Nat, I'm your dad, go back to bed we'll talk in the morning." He said with a grin.

"That's exactly my point."

"She doesn't know about me?" Now he was getting angry.

"She knows your name, that you travel a lot, and don't always get support to us on time." She said coldly. "I wasn't telling her any more than that until she was older."

"Well – she's older, and I ain't leavin." He said simply.

"What?"

"I put in for a transfer to the federal office here, and they'll give me what I want, so you better tell her something, because I'm here – and I'm gonna stay."

"Not here you're not."

"Here – now, or here later, it'll be all the same. You are MINE – got it."

"I don't belong to anyone."

"Yes you do – when was the last time you got laid?"

"None of your business."

"Eleven years ago – and yes it is my business…you're raising my kid. I can even tell you the last time you used that damned vibrator in your drawer." He sneered.

"You sick…"

"No – protecting my investment."

"Investment?"

"Yeah…I invested my DNA in that kid in there, and I keep close tabs on both of you. So far – you're doing a great job - but you both belong to me."

"Go to HELL, Creed."

He pressed her back against the wall and she moaned. She could feel every bit of him, and he wasn't letting her have any quarter.

"I'm legal, I'm legit, and I have higher jurisdiction than you do, Officer Wallis."

"That's Detective." She snapped. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.

"Dana – let's not mince words, I can FUCK up your world – and you know it. You could really put a hurt on me and you know it, but either way, that little girl in there gets screwed. I'm asking you to consider – just consider the thought of her parents together."

"We'd kill each other."

"I don't know…killin' ya is the LAST thing on my mind right now." He grinned, and she turned her face away as he tried to capture her mouth again.

"Well, it's not the last thing on mine." She said.

"Let me change your mind." He said softly against her ear, his breath sending sharp shivers down her back.

"You want to change my mind. It's going to take more than a quick fuck to change my mind." She snarled. "This little change of heart is all sweet and endearing and everything, but if you think I'm letting you near my daughter, you are as crazy as I've always thought."

"What do I have to do…buy you flowers, sweep you off your feet?" He gave her a very knowing grin. "Last time, it didn't take much at all."

"That was eleven years ago, I'm not that person anymore Victor." She said.

"Couldn't prove it by me…still short tempered, still too easy to rile, and still hot for me."

"But I can say no – and mean it. Nat is too important to me. I won't do anything to hurt her."

"So, what do I have to do, what do I have to prove?" He pulled back, which surprised her.

"That you are serious – and in this for the long haul…stick around for one. Stay here, without up and running for six months. Then I'll CONSIDER visitation. And stay away from me. Getting me in bed isn't going to help you Victor."

"You don't get you – you and Nat, you're a package deal for me. I get one – I get you both. She's my kid, you're my woman, it's time YOU adjusted to that."

"Not in this century."

He just grinned and picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. "Go to bed, Dana, and no more of those showers, you might hurt yourself. I'm here – and I'm here to stay, and believe me you will see me every fucking day, count on it. Oh – and I'll be delivering my own checks from now on."

She groaned as he walked out the door, and she cursed as she heard him turn off the alarm before walking out the front door down stairs. She was going to change the code first thing in the morning. He was back, and she didn't know if she would be able to adjust.


	2. Chapter 2

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. This is a one shot - it may expand I don't know but for now it's finished. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She was looking down at the body on the coroner's table. She hated autopsies.

"What's up Doc?" She asked in her best Buggs impression.

"His THC levels for one…" The older man said, handing her the toxicology report.

"He was high – okay, what does that have to do with the three holes in his chest?"

"That's not my job to find out. I sent the bullets to the criminalistics lab, along with his personal effects." She nodded and took her copy of the report. She stepped out of the examination room and right into a solid wall.

"Told ya you'd be seeing me regularly." She gasped and stepped to the side, trying to avoid physical contact with him.

"What are you…?"

"Autopsy report."

"Not on my gunshot vic."

"No – different case, I told you my transfer would go through."

"Ahh – you must be Marshall Creed." Doctor Givens stepped out of the door.

"Yeah – got that report for me?"

"Yes. Have you met…."

"We've met." Dana said sharply and turned away.

"Let's do lunch sometime."

"In your dreams, Creed." She snapped back over her shoulder. She heard his chuckle mocking her out of the building. Avery was waiting in the car.

"Did you see that guy – he's HUGE!" He said as she climbed in.

"Shut up and drive."

"What? Did he say something to you, or are you just cranky?"

"I arrested him eleven years ago – and now he's a Federal Marshall. I swear there is no justice in the world." She muttered.

"Arrested him for what?" He backed the car out of the space.

"A series of murders."

"The Slasher case?"

"Yeah."

"Was he guilty?"

"I don't know…all the evidence I had said he was – but he had air tight alibis and I didn't have anything that wasn't circumstantial."

"Shit! Do YOU think he is guilty?"

"I don't know." She gave him a glare that said shut up.

"Reasonable doubt" was all he said.

She just nodded, and looked at the report in her hand.

"So are you and Nat still coming over tomorrow?"

"You bet." She said.

"Good."

He was quiet a while, as he navigated traffic.

"He's the dick, isn't he?"

"Who?"

"Mr. HUGE!"

"What made you think that?" She fought the panic. It couldn't be that obvious could it?

"Just something about the way he walked, the way he moved reminded me of Nat." She tried not to groan out loud, but he heard it anyway. "He IS!"

"Just shut up, Avery."

"Did you at least get your support check?"

"Yes. It wasn't his fault…it's never HIS fault." She muttered.

"Hell. HE was a SUSPECT!" Avery wasn't slow on the uptake by any means.

"Yes – I know."

"So…what?"

"What do you mean what?"

"I mean – what? What the hell happened – you screwed a suspect, Dana?" There was more to it than that, but she wasn't going into it, not now.

"It's none of your business."

"Does IA know?"

"NO!"

"That case isn't closed."

"As far as I am concerned it is." He was quiet a moment. She hoped he would just let it go.

"He's Nat's father?"

"Yes."

"Does she know?"

"His name, that he travels a lot, and that he's sometimes a dick about support, yeah."

"About him being a murder suspect?"

"NO! I have enough on my plate at the moment without adding that to it." She snapped.

"When did he come back?"

"Yesterday."

"What?"

"He came by the house last night, wanted to make sure I got the check and to see Nat."

"You told him no, right?"

"Of course. I don't want him anywhere NEAR my daughter. I threw him out."

"Good for you. Do we need to beef up patrols near the house, just in case?"

"No. He threatened court action; I don't think he'll try anything physical." At least not anything she would want to press charges over.

"Then you have him, no court is going to give visitation to a murder suspect." Avery actually sounded excited.

"They will if he has a full blanket presidential pardon, and a federal badge, which he does. I checked last night."

"FUCK!"

"My thoughts exactly." She muttered.

"You are screwed."

"No shit. This is it." She said unnecessarily. The house was still cordoned off with yellow police tape.

XXXXXXX

She hadn't been happy to see him at the coroner's office. She'd get used to him. He picked up the report and drove back to the office.

"Hey – Creed, right?"

"Yeah." He muttered. He still couldn't get used to working in an office with a bunch of other jerks – and actually upholding the law instead of breaking it. It was the last part that had him gritting his teeth.

"You get that report?"

"Right here."

"Good kid." He wanted to rip the other guy's head off.

"If you don't have anything useful for me to do, I have some reports to finish for Denver." He snapped at his new supervisor.

"Ok. I'll call you if I need you." The other man was getting a perverted pleasure out of bossing him around – probably little man syndrome. His boss wasn't five foot nine in shoes, and Victor knew he intimidated the hell out of him.

He gritted his teeth and walked into his new office – closet was more like it – to finish the reports from Denver. They hadn't been happy about the transfer, but when he told them he wanted to be closer to his kid – well they got all gushy and couldn't wait to get rid of him. He still had the report on the job he just finished, the multiple rapist that had resisted arrest. He chuckled at that one; at least the federal badge gave him some leeway in how he applied that particular charge.

It wasn't as easy – staying on the right side of the law, and still take care of the blood lust, but he was doing okay, and what they didn't know, well he'd be VERY careful not to get caught – again.

He STILL didn't know how she'd caught him. It had been his ONLY arrest – until after Mag's little stunt in New York. That had been when the Feds cut him a deal – they liked his 'style.' They promised him a full pardon, in exchange for getting with the program. He'd insisted on a badge and a gun – not that he needed the gun much – but it was a nice play pretty.

The badge gave him legitimacy. Three years ago, when Dana had called him about Nat and the teeth issue – he'd known then he needed to have some say, or his cub was going to grow up thinking there was something wrong with her. He'd been working every day since, to get to the point that he would be able to force Dana to let him into their lives. He could just kill the frail and take the cub – but he didn't know SHIT about cubs, and then there was the matter of Dana and her voice and what it did deep in his gut. He couldn't imagine shutting her up for good.

Last night he'd been close – she'd almost let him back in. To him it was easy – get into her pants, let the cub see him a few times, know who he was, maybe start teaching her to use those nice mutant genes of hers – and then he could do what he liked, just keep an eye on them. It wasn't like he wanted to play house or anything. Regular sex and the cub knowing who he was – that was what he wanted, and the badge gave him leverage for just that.

He'd been thinking about hiring an attorney, one of those family law guys, have it looked into. If he could force visitation, it would be slower – getting to the first goal, but the cub would know who he was. Dana would be pissed as hell, and that wasn't exactly a bad thing, Dana pissed was something he really – REALLY wanted.

Or he could concentrate on Dana – she'd have to let him see the cub eventually, if they were sleeping together. Of course, right now she didn't want anything to do with him – or thought she didn't. Her body had been SCREAMING another tune last night. He grinned. She still wanted him.

He was still grinning when his supervisor walked in with a stack of files.

"New guy gets cold cases." He said and dumped the files on his desk.

"Thanks!" He grumbled.

This was a stack of paperwork that wasn't going away any time soon. That was the other thing he HATED about this damned job – paperwork. He growled and opened the first file.

XXXXXXXX

He was waiting outside police headquarters, leaning on her car when she walked out.

"What do you want?"

"Take you and Nat to dinner."

"Go to hell."

"Been there, it's a blast." She just glared at him and waited for him to move. When he didn't she just walked around to the passenger side and opened that door and climbed across to the driver side, hitting the auto lock as soon as she closed the door behind her. He laughed.

"Come on – it's just dinner." She could hear him through the glass. She rolled it down, knowing it was stupid.

"No. I told you, you want to see her – six months, a regular place, not a motel somewhere, and you really look like you are settling down – maybe even get a girl friend." She snapped the last.

"You don't want that…" He whispered, leaning down, his arms on the top of the car. If she REALLY wanted to hurt him, she'd just open the door at this point, break his nose and maybe wipe that smirk off his face. She thought about it – twice, before deciding to be the better person.

"What I WANT is you to disappear off the face of the earth, but that's not going to happen. I will CONSIDER visitation, on those terms."

"Not good enough. I want to see her now."

"NO!"

"I know where she goes to school, you had to put me on her birth certificate – I remember the settlement, very well – I know where her dance class is, I know where your mother lives. Nice woman by the way, not sure how she produced you. She's been very helpful, keeping me informed about Nat. I know where her friends live; I even know where you send her to church."

She was going to KILL her mother.

"STAY away from NAT!" She hissed.

"She's my daughter."

"And the court order says you stay away."

"I'm looking into getting that changed – just thought you should know. Next time – I ain't putting up with this shit, Dana."

"What next time?"

"You and me are inevitable. It's gonna happen – and let's face it; neither one of us think much about birth control, so NEXT time – I get visitation from day 1."

"There won't be a NEXT time." She said.

"Is there a problem here?" One of the uniforms walked by.

"Naa – just chatting." He pushed his jacket back far enough to show his badge.

"You alright Detective?"

"Just leaving." She said, glaring at Victor. He stood up with a grin and she turned on the car and pulled out of her space. He watched her until she pulled out of the drive, and she saw him in her rear view mirror climb into his car. She was shaking. NEXT time! He thought there would be a NEXT time?

XXXXXX

"Well that went better than planned." He grinned as he pulled out and followed her car. She was good and pissed. He didn't really know where the next time comment came from – but he couldn't deny the surge that had flowed through his body at the thought. Another cub – with her as the mother; he already knew his daughter had bred true – what would a son be like. He started modifying his plans. Maybe playing house wasn't such a bad idea.

He let her think he was following her, let her make her switchbacks to try to throw him off, and then turned down the street where the apartment complex he was considering was. She said she wanted him settled, showing signs of putting down roots, before she'd let him see Nat…that was fine with him. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her – yet.

His phone rang.

"Quit following me."

"I'm not – you were just going my way." He said.

"Stay away from us Victor."

"Too late – you're both mine." He snapped the phone shut. She didn't know just how true that was – or who his best little ally in this was going to be. He grinned again. Yep – Dana was his – she just had to admit it. He ignored the phone ringing. Let her sweat.

The special tone hit – the one he'd assigned to his informant. He snatched the phone out of the passenger seat as he pulled into the apartment office parking lot.

"Creed."

"That's not going to work." The voice on the other end of the phone said.

"What – don't think getting her pissed is a good idea? The last time she was this pissed well, let's just say it was a memorable night."

"I didn't know you were a suspect in a murder case when you called me about this."

"Avery – that's old news, and I'm not guilty. That wasn't me – I was actually HUNTING the bastard when SHE caught me. Does she know yet?"

"What?"

"That you report to me?"

"Of course not."

"She'll figure it out; she's nothing if not good."

"Yeah – she's good, one of the best."

"She know you are a mutant?"

"No."

"Well?"

"She has phenomenal instincts, her gut, it's better than anything I've ever seen, after fifteen years as a cop, but she's human, just a DAMNED good cop."

"Do you know how she caught me yet?"

"Nope, she's never discussed it."

"Hrmm. Alright, how's my little trooper takin things?"

"She hasn't said anything yet. Dana still doesn't know."

"Good – she's a smart kid, and my ace in the hole."

"Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"Torturing her like this. You should just tell her Nat called you."

"I will, when I'm ready. I want them both, and with Dana – I gotta break down the walls, got ta get her good and pissed first. Game plan's changed."

"Oh…?"

"Yeah – gonna go domestic."

"What?"

"Let's just say – I'm impressed enough by Nat ta try for another one."

"Oh FUCK! Creed, she'll kill you."

"No she won't. By the time she finds out I planned it – she'll be pukin' with morning sickness."

"You can't do this – she's not some brood mare – fuck she deserves better than this."

"Avery – you are getting really close to forgetting who made those drug charges disappear. If you don't want them to reappear – with the murder rap to go with them, you'll do what I want. Don't let the squeaky clean record fool you – you ain't."

"She isn't either."

"What?"

"She never told IA – about you."

"I was surprised by getting hit with the paternity suit, I thought she'd get what SHE wanted and then jack me up on rape charges. She surprised me there; did she say why she didn't go to IA?"

"No."

"Dig it out of her – I want to know why?"

"I can't dig too deep – she'll want to know why."

"She's gonna need someone to confide in, especially with me back in town. Just be her shoulder, just like always, you are a cop, for fuck's sake you know how to ask leading questions."

"Would you have come back, into her life, if your accountant hadn't died?"

"Eventually. It was in the plans – not this quick, I had a few more things to set up first, but yeah."

"I have to ask a question, Creed, and don't get pissed at me, answer however you like, but – do you love her, either of them."

"They are mine, plain and simple. The sooner they realize it, the sooner their lives get a whole lot better."

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't believe in that frail shit. I'm proud of the cub; she's got a level head, lots of talent, and will be a real beauty someday soon. She does her daddy proud, hell; she does her momma proud too. Dana – that's not so easy. I hate the bitch sometimes, she can be a real pain in my ass, and sometimes all I can think about is nailing her to a wall, all hot and sticky and sweaty. What bugs the hell out of me – is I walked away, eleven years ago – and last night. I'm through walkin away. She's in my blood, I can't get her out of my head, her voice does things to me, deep down. She's my woman, nothin's ever gonna change that."

"That's good enough for me. This case we are on is getting ugly – fast. It's not as simple as it seems. I haven't told her yet, but I'm going to. This guy was collateral damage on something bigger. She's gonna need someone who can take care of her – and Nat. These guys are out for blood – cop blood."

"Call in the feds."

"I've thought about it – I seriously considered it when I saw you at the coroner, but she's lead on the case, it's her call."

"Alright – you have your marching orders. We take it one day at a time – for now." He clicked the phone shut. Avery was way too perceptive by half, one of the reasons he'd picked him for this little job. He'd always had someone watching them, but after the whole 'hide the fangs' thing he'd wanted someone closer, someone who could look out for his interests. Avery had been a vice cop, a good one, that just couldn't leave the product alone.

Victor had taken care of the investigation, and the dealers that were ratting him out; then convinced him a change of scene – and career focus was in order, after the expensive rehab program he'd paid for. He was the perfect spy, he was a good cop, who knew where his bread was buttered.

Now he just had to wait. He opened the car door and went to look at apartments. 


	3. Chapter 3

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She was sitting out on the patio at Avery's house. Nat and Gwyn were in the pool splashing around.

"So – any word from huge and ugly?" Avery asked.

"No – why?"

"He had you pretty freaked yesterday?"

"Yeah – well, it's complicated." She hoped he was just making conversation, but it felt like he was digging.

"Why didn't you tell IA – if you didn't do anything wrong?"

"I don't want to discuss it." She said sharply.

"I'm just worried that this is going to bite you in the ass – and through you me." He snapped back.

"Fine – you have a point. I have it under control – okay?"

"For now – but if this gets bad…"

"If it looks like it's going against you – I'll let you in." She said. "I just don't want to talk about it – it was a long time ago, and I've tried to put it behind me.

"Hey – no cop stuff." Leslie said as she came out the door. "We all agreed to leave work at the door today." Leslie was a high school English teacher.

"Sorry, Baby – it wasn't cop stuff."

"Yes it was. And it's dropped." Dana said, sharply.

"Okay – shit can't win with TWO women giving me hell." He turned back to the grill.

"So, how was Nat's ballet recital?" Leslie asked as she dropped into the chair next to Dana.

"It was great. She really enjoyed it." Dana said. They sat there talking about the girls and their activities until lunch was ready.

"Mom, Gwyn and I are going inside to play." Nat said after they finished their hamburgers.

"Okay – as long as Leslie and Avery don't mind."

"Naa – let the girls play." Avery said. Leslie nodded.

Nat practically dragged Gwyn inside the house. They were whispering to each other as they ran toward the hallway to the back of the house and out of sight. Dana barely remembered those days – of shared secrets and hating boys.

"They are so innocent." She said with a chuckle.

"We work hard to keep them that way, Partner." Avery said.

"I know – and it's nice to see it paying off."

She relaxed in the afternoon sun, seriously considering going in and changing into her bathing suit herself. The afternoon heat and the good meal made her drowsy and lazy, and changing was too much effort at the moment.

XXXXXXX

He was watching from the top of a hill. Avery's house was outside the urban sprawl – barely, and he could sit in this tree and watch her all afternoon. He'd watched Nat – but she was a cub, she just didn't hold his interest for long.

Dana was relaxed – he'd never seen her relaxed. She was almost bonelessly graceful lying in the lawn chair, eyes half closed, talking quietly to Avery's frail. He watched the play of the sunlight in her dark hair, across her face; down her limber body…he cut that thought. She wasn't ready to give in – not yet, and frustrating himself wasn't going to make things any easier.

He groaned as she shifted and raised on knee, the skirt of her dress exposing more of her thigh than she realized. She was among friends – she didn't need to be careful. She'd better get with the program – soon, or she would be facing him in the dark again. He needed her.

"NO!" He hissed out loud. "You don't need some frail, Creed. Want hell yeah, but need NO!" He didn't sound very convincing. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Who the hell was calling him?

"Hello." He said into the receiver. He didn't recognize the number.

"Dad?"

"Nat? Where are you calling from?"

"Gwyn's cell phone."

"Oh. What?" He almost snarled into the phone. He still wasn't used to the cub calling him.

"Are you here?"

"What do you mean, am I here?"

"In town."

"Yeah – I was at your recital the other night." He said.

"YOU WERE!" She almost squealed with delight.

"Yeah." He winced at the pitch. He was definitely going to have to start training her soon.

"Can I SEE you?"

"I'm workin' on it. Your Mom still says no."

"I can talk…."

"NO! She doesn't know we are talking, and right now that's a good thing, okay. You just keep it tight for now. I'm dealing with your mother."

"I did some checking on the internet. Did you really do those things – the Statue of Liberty and stuff?"

"What?"

"There's a whole website for what they call the "Mutant Attack on New York" I was checking it out. There is kind of a picture of you there – but I can't see much."

"Why are you messing with that crap?" He did snarl this time.

"I just want to know what you look like." She said, he could hear a tremble in her voice.

"Soon, kid – okay. Now be a trooper and get off the phone – before your mother finds out and messes everything up." He said.

"She won't if she knows I WANT to see you." Nat said.

"Trust me – she will." He said. "Now go on – let me deal with your mother. I'll talk to you later – Monday at lunch like always."

"Okay. Bye Dad." He clicked the phone shut. It gave him a strange feeling, something he'd never felt before, her calling him Dad. Pride he understood, but this tightness in his chest, almost an ache, certainly an annoyance, he didn't understand.

He watched Dana get up and go into the house. He hoped to hell the other cub wouldn't say anything about her calling him. He didn't want Dana to know – not yet. Nat was his ace, the one thing he could use in court to force his hand if he couldn't get Dana to agree. She WANTED to see him, and he'd get her to testify to that if he had to.

Dana had no idea the conspiracy against her…her mother had called him eight years ago. Found his number at Dana's when she was baby sitting Nat. The woman had given him HELL for abandoning them. He'd filled her in – told her his side of things and she'd been his quiet ally since. She made sure Nat called him regularly, made sure he was kept up to date on what was going on with Dana, even sent him pictures of them – pictures he should destroy – but carried around with him. Three years ago, after what he called the "Fang Fight" Judy, Dana's mother, had taken his side completely. She agreed that Nat should be able to be what she was – without trying to hide it, and had been openly fighting that battle for him with Dana.

His plans started then – with the "Fang Fight" but he'd known he had to do something long before that. That night in his hotel haunted him in more ways than one. The year Nat was born he'd taken a job – the client wanted the full works, man dead – wife and daughter violated and killed, and pictures of the whole thing. It had been brutal, but when it came down to the actual rape – he just couldn't. He'd ended up finding something handy and using that – the client didn't specify HOW it had to be done. He hadn't taken a rape job since. Not for almost ten years.

He'd told her he knew just how long it had been since she'd been laid – he should know, he'd kept careful track. He'd tried – picking up women in bars that reminded him of her, he'd even managed to fuck them – but they weren't her. He usually sent them packing right after, he always got a sour taste in his mouth, they didn't taste right, didn't smell right, didn't feel right. She was in his fucking blood, and he hated her for it. Hated her and wanted her. He wasn't even going to let himself THINK that he needed her, he wasn't frail – he didn't need anyone, or anything.

At least until she walked out the back door of Avery's house in less than her underwear. What the FUCK did she think she was doing wearing something like that, she was HIS woman damn it. He groaned as she walked to the pool and dove in. The bikini was close enough to flesh colored that she looked completely nude. He put the binoculars to his yes – he could see clearly enough without them – but THIS he wanted to see up close and personal – and until she let him back in, this was as up close as he was going to get.

God she was still in good shape – even after ten years. He'd noticed the other night – but in the dark, and spitting mad, well it just wasn't the same. He watched her cut through the water, and knew he'd be awake half the night thinking about what he wanted to do to that body. He wouldn't deny that he wanted her – willing or not. The problem was – he'd done 'not' once, and for some reason it had turned his stomach.

_He opened the door. She was standing there, notebook in hand. He'd told her exactly what he wanted to do to her in the interrogation room, and she was still here – in the hotel hallway, alone. He leaned on the door jam._

_"Can I help you, Officer?" He said, sneering._

_"Yes – I still have a few questions." She said, calmly. He didn't smell fear – no pulse rate increase, either she was fearless – or stupid, or…God he hoped it was that or._

_"I ain't answerin' anything without my attorney present." He said._

_"Fine – call him. I'm going to get to the bottom of this case." She said, and he detected a hit of threat in her tone. SHE was threatening him?_

_"Fine – I'll even be nice – three questions, come on in." He stepped back and let her into the suite. He never scrimped – not on his own comfort. He watched her take a seat in one of the chairs in the front room._

_"What were you doing at the Scrigmore scene?"_

_'What?"_

_"I have your fingerprints – all over the house."_

_"Scriggs was an old friend – I was there last week, visiting. I think I even used the john."_

_"What about the Mullins scene?"_

_"Don't know what you are talkin' about." He'd been careful at Mullins, not left anything behind, and he knew it._

_"We found boot tread that matches your boots on the sidewalk."_

_"I like to walk – still don't know what scene you are talkin' about."_

_He watched her face as she thought about her third question. She was definitely impressive. Dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, sculpted face tight with concentration, but under that – was a frail designed to be fucked, and there was no way in hell she was getting out of here – not without getting as good as he had to give. He was almost drooling at the thought of her under him – even fighting would be a huge turn on at this point. He could smell himself – and smell her – her body was reacting to his scent, even if she didn't realize it yet._

_"Who's next?"_

_"What?"_

_"On your hit list, who's next? They were all wanted for something, multiple pedophile charges on Murphy, Mullins was a known hit man, and you old friend Scriggs was a three time loser. Who's next?"_

_"I don't know what you are talking about." And he didn't. He was trying to find this bastard. He didn't know who Murphy was, Mullins had been the second one he'd heard about, the first had been a child porn producer named Phillips. That made four…five if you count Griggs – he didn't count Griggs, he was just a small timer, the cops were counting him though. Someone was after guys that wouldn't be missed. Scriggs had called him in – he'd gotten a warning note, something about atoning for his sins. Victor never got to see it; Scriggs wouldn't show it to him last week, and three days later he was dead, and the note in the hands of the police._

_"Not my list. I don't deny my kills, frail. You've seen my sheet. All legit – one way or another, and all clean. I don't leave shit behind." He said. _

_"Then you are getting sloppy, Creed." She said, standing up._

_"Leavin' so soon, I had other plans." He moved lightning quick and pinned her to the door. He leaned down and took a deep scent…her musk clinging to the back of his throat and sinuses. "You want me baby – I can smell it." He hissed against the back of her head, her face and body pressed to the door by his mass.  
_

_"Let me go – this is assault on a police officer, I could haul you in for this – again." She hissed. She STILL wasn't scared. She wasn't stupid, so that gave her points for guts. He grabbed her arm and slung her around, slamming her against another wall, this time facing him as he forced his knee between her thighs._

_"You don't get it – YOU got what I want, OFFICER! Now either you give it up nice – or I take it, either way, you are getting fucked." He wasn't about to let up on her. He let her see the claws slip from under his nail beds and slowly, with his forefinger claw sliced down the front of her shirt, making sure to catch the center of the bra she was wearing. He didn't want anything between him and his prize._

_NOW she was scared – good and scared. She started to struggle against him, but he just laughed. She didn't have the leverage – or the physical strength to force him off of her. He let his clawed hands cup her breasts each one filling the palm of his huge hands. They looked good pressed against her creamy skin; he could feel the ache of the jeans pressing against him, and leaned down to kiss her._

_She bit him._

_"We are going to do this the hard way." He said with a grin, as he watched the shock on her face as the bite healed before her eyes._

_"What are you?" She hissed at him._

_"That's question number four – I only told you I'd answer three." He said with a grin as he hefted her onto his shoulder and carried her into the bedroom. He threw her down on the bed, the impact knocking the breath from her body – and taking the fight out of her for a second._

_That second was all he needed. He unfastened her jeans – barely noticing that she wasn't in uniform, and yanked them down, and off her body. God she smelled good. He didn't want to do this the hard way – and something made him hold back on just unbuttoning his jeans and fucking her._

_She didn't start struggling again until his weight settled on top of her, he pinned her arms over her head with one hand and leaned down to kiss her, she bit him again._

_"Ya gotta quit that. It hurts – and I don't want to hurt you, Dana." He whispered._

_"How do you know my name?"_

_"That's number five…" He whispered, trailing his lips along the column of her neck. He thought he heard a slight strangled moan. He KNEW he smelled a fresh wave of arousal from her. "I bet you taste sweet." He whispered._

_She started to scream but he swallowed it with his mouth. He wanted her to kiss him back – needed her to kiss him back. She'd fucking arrested him – she owed him for the humiliation. He knew she could feel his naked flesh pressed to hers, grinding against her, demanding entrance. She was wet, and he could feel the heat of her arousal against his tip. It was driving him insane._

_"Dana, Dana, Dana…this would be so much easier if you'd just give in to what you want. I can feel it – I can smell it – I can taste it on your skin." He could too – her sweat was tinged with it._

_"NO!" She shouted. He just grinned and ground himself against her again. _

_"You sure about that…'cuz your body's tellin a different tale." He captured her mouth and her scream as he set himself at her opening and without a thought plunged deep inside. She was TIGHT – too tight, something was wrong. Then he smelled it – blood, not a lot, but enough to get his attention. He'd think about it later, she felt too damned good. He just started moving, every stroke like velvet against his skin. He lost himself in the sensations, she felt so good. He felt her fingernails dig into the hand holding hers down and he grinned down at her. Somewhere in his brain it registered that her cheeks were wet, but he just didn't care. He leaned down and captured her mouth with his, this time losing control over his mutation, his fangs lengthening and cutting her lip…he'd been right, her blood was sweet. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to that precipice, and had the strange desire for her to go with him. He wanted her pleasure too. He pulled himself back, reined in the beast that just wanted to mate._

_"Stop, please…GOD it hurts…" she was whimpering when he finally pulled back enough to hear her. Hurts? He was big – but he'd never had any complaints before – well not from any frail that lived. His head was lying on her shoulder and he lifted up to look at her face. His hair was damp from the tears it had absorbed. He could still feel her tight and hot around him and he wanted to scream in frustration. He was so close._

_"Please." He could smell fear – and pain – and shame…why shame? Then it hit him – the tightness – the blood – the pain. He jumped between some strange feelings – things he rarely felt – guilt, a strange sense of satisfaction and possession, and real remorse. Her eyes were closed and she was just whispering the word over and over. _

_"I can't take it back." He whispered, and then she moved under him – at just the wrong moment, in just the wrong way, and he felt himself reach the breaking point "OH GOD!" He leaned into her shoulder as he felt himself fill her womb with his seed. For a moment the only sounds in the room were his ragged breathing – and her soft sobs. He'd broken her, this woman – one of the few he'd met who deserved the title. He pulled out of her, and winced at the amount of blood on the bedspread. He pulled her against his chest, and stroked her back._

_"I can't take it back…I can make it better, but I can't take it back." He whispered. He hated regret, remorse, guilt. They made him frail – weak, but he was feeling all three – and something else, something deep, something that made him want to kill whoever had hurt her – and HE was the one that hurt her._

_"YOU BASTARD!" She screamed at him, pounding on his chest with her fist. That was when a few things registered…no badge, no gun, and no uniform. She was here off duty, but she was still a cop. He'd really managed to fuck up royally this time. He had to find a way to fix it._

_Killing her wouldn't work, she knew too many people, and she'd be missed. The easy way was out. His brain was working as she vented her anger and pain at him. He ignored the ranting – trying to think. He'd raped a fucking cop – SHIT! That would land him in jail for certain – unless he could convince her not to press charges. HOW the FUCK could he do that. There was no getting out of this – he was all over her, his DNA – his unique DNA. _

_"FUCK YOU! You sick fucking bastard! When I am through with you…" _

_"Shut up." He growled at her, grabbing the fist she was throwing at his face. His hand completely engulfed hers._

_"SHUT UP! YOU RAPED…." _

_"I KNOW damn it, NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He roared back. Something inside him wasn't finished with her – wasn't ready to let her go, or kill her. Something wanted more from her – and he didn't understand it. _

_Hell, rape was a recreation for him – it took away stress, but now he wanted more than just a quick fuck. He looked at her – really looked at her, he had her body pinned against his, her hair had come loose and was brushing a silken caress along his arm as he held her. He held her legs pinned with one of his. She only had free movement with one arm – one fist, and that one was pounding annoyingly against his chest and face. He grabbed it again and twisted her arm back, grabbing her free hand with the arm that held her pinned to his side._

_"I can fix this." He whispered._

_"NO! YOU can't. YOU RAPED ME!" She said it – all of it, and he couldn't deny it._

_"And I'm gonna keep doin' it too." He whispered. "and you are going to enjoy it this time." Her fear spiked with that promise. He wanted to make it right, show her it wasn't just pain, he didn't want her afraid of him – he wanted her spitting mad and ready to take him on._

"_What's the matter – can't take a challenge."_

_"CHALLENGE!" She shouted._

_"Yeah – alright, I raped you – sorta. YOU wanted me – your body was ready for me, I've been smellin' you all day – since the interrogation room. You were fighting it, denying it. I could taste it on your skin, in your sweat. I admit if I'da known, I'd have been gentler the first time, but you took me by surprise. I usually don't get the pleasure of cherry pickin'." He grinned. She was fighting hard against him, which wasn't helping her case a bit. His factor was working and he was ready for round two. She stopped as she felt him press against her._

_"NO!"_

_"Oh yeah…round two – only this time, I ain't the only one who's gonna enjoy it. Too bad you left your cuffs behind – those would have come in handy." He grinned and reached with his free hand for the tie he'd dropped on the nightstand earlier. He quickly tied her hands behind her back, and then rolled her over so he could look at her._

_He quickly examined her, to make sure he hadn't done any major damage the first time. He didn't want to kill her – didn't really want to hurt her. The blood had started to dry. He leaned in to see if he could smell fresh blood – deep blood. Her foot caught him by surprise, snapping his nose; he almost cuffed her, but instead just grabbed her foot, leaning on the other leg to hold it down._

_"That's as good a place to start as any." He said, and as soon as his nose healed, he wiped his own blood away, and started kissing her ankle. She struggled against him, but he was firm, gentle but firm. She wasn't getting away – and she was going to enjoy this. He worked his way slowly up her leg, and the surge he smelled when he hit the back of her knee told him he was on the right track. By the time he was kissing along her hip bone she was moaning, and when he stopped to go to the bathroom for a clean rag to clean away the blood, she moaned in protest. _

_"Don't move. If you move, I'll have to start all over." He said with a grin as he left her on the bed. He quickly damped one of the hotel wash cloths, and caught her by the waist as she was running for the living room. "Now what'd I tell you. Now I have to start all over." _

_She actually moaned – and collapsed against him as he licked behind her ear and carried her back to the bed. He had to give her credit – she was good. She'd managed to get herself untied and off the bed in less than thirty seconds. He grabbed the tie, and retied her wrists, this time over her head and to the rung on the brass headboard._

_"We can't have that again, I promise to untie you if you are good." He grinned, and this time started on the other ankle. This knee was just as sensitive as the first…._

He snapped out of the memory – something was wrong. Dana was pointing at something – at HIM! SHIT, she'd seen him. He could tell she was FURIOUS. No, not at him, she was pointing in another direction. He trained the binoculars the way she was pointing. It was smoke, black smoke toward town. That wasn't something small, something HUGE had gone up. He took off, even if running fully aroused wasn't the most comfortable feeling in the world.

He made it to his truck and turned on the radio.

"CREED! Where the fuck are you?"

"On my day off – I was hiking in the woods." He snapped into the radio.

"Get your ass down town – there was an explosion at the police station."

"SHIT! On my way." She was safe – she was with Avery…He'd been right damn it, what ever case they were on – someone was out for cop blood.

XXXXXXXX

She'd felt the blast – the water in the pool had been disturbed enough to ripple, She'd come up out of there and looked, at first she hadn't seen anything and then the smoke started to plume…Black smoke – ugly smoke, the smoke that said people were dead. She pointed to the plume; Avery looked up from where he was setting up the poker table. She caught a flash out of the corner of her eye but when she looked in that direction it was gone. Leslie came out the door.

"What was that – all the dishes rattled. I didn't think we got earthquakes here."

"We don't – not like that." Dana said.

"You two better get changed and get going – they are going to need everyone." She said. "I'll keep the Nat here."

"Thanks, Les…" Dana said and turned toward the house. Her badge and gun were in her purse on the dining room table. All she had to do was get dressed – plain clothes certainly helped in times like this.

"MOM what was that?" Nat said as she came out of the bathroom, her wet bathing suit in her hand.

"I don't know yet. But I am GOING to find out, you are staying here with Gwyn and Leslie while we go into town."

"MOM!"

"Don't you mom me. It's my JOB!"

"What about Dad?"

"WHAT!?"

"I know he's in town…will you at LEAST make sure he's alright."

"We'll talk about this later." She almost growled at her daughter. She slipped on her shoes and Avery came down the hall from the master suite fully dressed and ready to go.

"Call him – I tried to call the station – no answer. I'll check the radio when I get in the car…"

"What?"

"He's a Federal Marshall, I couldn't even get dispatch, Dana, not busy, but dead – then all circuits busy."

"How did you know?"

"Just do it." He snapped.

She grabbed her cell out of her purse and dialed his number – she got the same thing all circuits busy. "Cells are down."

"Land lines too – I can't get a line out to call anyone." Leslie said.

"Girls you stay with Les…Dana lets go." The hit the door at a run and were in the car and out of the drive way in fifteen seconds. People were just starting to come out of their houses and point to the growing column of smoke.

"Static." Avery said, as he switched channels on the radio.

"All units report in." Came a voice over the emergency band.

"This is 531 and 483 en route to the scene." Avery said.

"Be advised Federal units are en route as well, Avery – this is Jackson, it was the station – what ever happened, it was shift change everyone was in." They looked at each other in the car, and they both nodded. This wasn't going to be pretty – and it was people they knew – well. Dana bit her lip.

"Who's on the scene?"

"No one yet, wait – I'm getting a report." They all heard it.

"Jackson – it's bad, there's only one wall standing, what ever caused the blast, took out the building – and three others around it." Dana gasped. There was a day care, and a tutoring center that were both busy on Saturday in the buildings around the station.

"We need people in there, NOW to contain the scene."

"We'll be there in less than five minutes." Avery said into the mike.

"Good – because it doesn't look good."


	4. Chapter 4

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They parked the car five blocks from the station – the roads were just too congested with debris and emergency vehicles to get any closer. They started in on foot. At first it was just glass blown out of buildings, and minor cuts and abrasions. Then they started seeing major structural damage, two blocks away. The headquarters building and city jail had been a ten story building, and should have been visible, however all either of them could see was a huge plume of black smoke.

Dana felt panic grip her stomach and throat. It had been shift change, three hundred officers, fifty support personnel and, as of end of shift last night, two hundred and fifty detainees in the jail, either booked or waiting for booking, six hundred people, just in the building, not counting surrounding buildings, and from the damage she was seeing still a block away, and the serious injuries and dead laying in the streets being triaged by paramedics or just moaning waiting for help, the damage closer had to be worse.

Her heart was in her throat when a firefighter came out of the blaze, carrying a tiny bundle. The day care next door to the building must have been full. She met his eyes, and saw the answer to her unasked question. He gently laid the bundle down near a row of unmoving bodies, and his glazed eyes just turned, and his body followed, back into the smoke and debris to keep bringing more out.

She pulled what she called her scene face, knowing what was inside that blast area was bad – really bad, and started to work her way into the debris, looking for anyone who might be in charge to report to, Avery followed right behind, his scene face in place as well.

Her eyes saw, but her mind wasn't ready to process the devastation. She found a uniformed officer – from an outlying community.

"Where is control?" She asked him, grabbing his arm. He glanced down at her hand, and then up at her and pointed to a fire truck with several uniformed officers around it. He turned away, and ducked behind a pile of rubble. She could hear his retching heaves and just turned the direction he pointed. It was going to be that kind of day.

"Wallis, Grayson get over here." It was Jackson's voice. He was night shift, and she remembered the board last night, had been off duty.

They walked over. He looked at her, and down at her skirt. "Get a coverall on, you are going to need it, and a hard hat. I need sector 8 and 15 covered. These men will assist. The feds are on the way – here's one now." Jackson said. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the very last person she wanted to see striding through the smoke and rubble like he owned the place.

"Marshall." Jackson said. "You are with Wallis." She choked back her groan, now wasn't the time to deal with personal issues. Jackson handed her a set of coveralls, and a grid map of the area. "You have section 8."

She just nodded and stepped into the coveralls, not worrying that her skirt bunched up around her hips. Comfort wasn't important, getting in there, finding the living, recovering the dead, and finding the cause were their priorities at the moment, and in that order. She grabbed a hard hat from the pile next to the truck and glared at Creed.

"You coming?"

"Yeah." She was surprised at his lack of a witty comeback, but maybe even HE could be stunned by something like this. She started into the mess when she saw an old friend, a retired officer working his way over the rubble. She knew he'd been involved in a school explosion years before and didn't need to be at this scene.

"Just a sec." She said, and walked over and took his arm.

"You don't need to be here." She said.

"They called for anyone with experience to come help – I'm here." He said.

"There is a day care in there – you DON'T need to be here. Go back set up a control center or something, help that way – you don't need to see those kids." She said softly. "There are other things you can do, Dan."

She saw the pain in his eyes, and watched as he turned away. He knew she was right, and she knew he'd find some way to be useful.

"Alright – section 8, let's go." She said, loud enough for her volunteers to hear, and with Victor Creed at her back she lead them into the devastation.

XXXXXXXXX

She surprised him, twice. Once, by barely flinching when she saw him, and second by how she handled the old cop. Victor could smell the man was in pain, physical pain, and didn't need to be on the scene, and she'd sent him on his way – to find something useful to do, without once mentioning his infirmity. She had compassion, his frail, something he usually didn't have much use for – but today it just might be needed.

He followed her, hardhat on. Even he didn't want to deal with a blow to the head from falling rubble or worse. Their section of the debris was near the entrance and booking area of the jail, according to the floor plan of the building, in reality, it was a pile of twisted metal and concrete and death – he was surrounded by the smell of death.

That wasn't a smell that usually bothered him, but even he wasn't used to it on this large a scale, it smelled like a charnel house in the old days, where they stacked the bodies before burial, except it was all fresh, or rather almost all. He smelled decay – at least a day's worth.

"Wallis – over here." He said, pointing to the pile that smelled old.

"What is it?"

"There's a body under there." He said.

"There's a LOT of bodies under here, Creed." She snapped.

"This one's at least a day old." He said.

"Well then there is nothing we can do for him now. It's the LIVING we are looking for – investigation can wait until…" She just turned away leaving the rest unsaid. He knew exactly what it was…until there are no more living to help." He marked the spot, and turned to follow her. He usually didn't take orders well, but somehow, even he was feeling overwhelmed by all of this.

They started digging, listening for any sounds. He smelled blood and death below their section, and nothing alive. He reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Nothing living here, Dana." He said softly.

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do." He tapped his nose.

"That's right. Section – follow Creed." She said. Her radio burst with static, and then Jackson's voice.

"What are you doing Wallis?"

"Marshall Creed's a mutant – he has an enhanced sense of smell. We are going to follow him, see if he can scent anyone alive." She said.

"DAMN! I'm calling in the dogs – that's a good idea." Jackson said. She grinned. Creed knew several of the outlying communities had K9 units, both cadaver dogs, and drug dogs that could scent people. They would be a huge asset in the search. That Jackson hadn't thought of it sooner told how much stress the man was under. He just looked at Dana, and she gestured him to lead the way.

He took a sniff, nothing alive nearby so he started moving out, in widening circles from their starting point. There was nothing alive within a fifty food radius of where they started. The teams they passed started following them, everyone wanted to find the living first, the dead would have to wait. He pointed to a pile of rubble.

"Two alive under there – not sure for how long." He said, and the teams started digging.

"Four men dig here – the rest follow." Dana said, and gestured for him to keep going.

He just nodded to her, noticing that the grime was sticking to her face, she was sweating in the early summer heat, and he took a deep breath of her scent – to clear his head. She smelled – he didn't have a name for it – determined, distanced, professional, but he read complete concern and even stark terror from her as well. It was strange. He'd never been in a situation like this, he didn't know if this was her normal 'work' mode, or if this was something special, something brought out by the devastation around them.

With his sinuses clear, he took another scent; all he smelled nearby was death so he moved on. He found another scent – this one nearing death, and signaled a team to start digging, and to hurry. Dana just signaled him to move on, and they fell into a routine of him finding something, and four to six man crews digging to pull out survivors. He was nearing the west wall when it hit him, STRONG and alive, and he could hear it too. He didn't wait for a crew but started digging.

Another pair of hands joined his, and he glanced at the woman next to him. She didn't know what it was or why he was digging but she was right there with him…just like he wanted. He wanted her like this all the time – with him, not against him. He didn't even wince as he ripped three claws out pulling the rubble off of the crumpled body below, he didn't even pause, using the claws on the other hand to cut through the body – and pull the infant out from underneath. The mother had curled her body around the child, and in doing so had given her life for the screaming bundle in his hands. He looked down at it, the baby was almost completely unharmed, just a scratch on one leg, its body had been fully protected by its mother's. He reached out to hand her the baby when he heard the rapport.

He glanced around, and almost missed catching her with his other hand as she dropped. He saw a brief flash but with both hands full he couldn't do anything to track it down. He smelled her blood, and heard her moan.

"DANA!"

"Shoulder, Get the baby out, I'll be ok." She said through clenched teeth as she pulled herself back to her feet.

"LIKE HELL!" He roared at her and leaned down and planted his shoulder in her middle, standing up with her over one shoulder and the baby cradled against his chest. He took off at a dead run, leaping piles of rubble where he had to, they both needed medical attention, and he was the only ambulance around.

Avery saw him, and rushed to help. He handed off the baby, and dragged Dana to the triage unit.

"There's a sniper out there, picking off people in the rescue teams." He said. Avery grabbed his radio, and reported to command.

"Creed – get your ass back out there – there are still survivors." Dana said.

"Can't you ONCE say my name, WOMAN!" He roared at her, before bringing his mouth crashing down on hers. Relief was just part of it, if she was giving him hell, she couldn't be that hurt, part of it was anger at her ordering him around and part of it he just wasn't ready to pick at yet – it fueled something deep inside him, something that, even after nearly eleven years, couldn't let her go.

It took him a second to realize that her tongue was battling his, her mouth was as demanding as his, her good hand was tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if she wanted to climb inside his mouth. He groaned, and pulled her hand away.

"DAMN IT! NOW you get responsive. STAY PUT. I'm going back in, but save some of that for later – because we need to talk." He glared, and turned away. Her taste in his mouth fueled him, gave him the strength to go back into that mess, to try to find the survivors, and try to keep the other officers alive. This was the type of environment he thrived in, the added danger of the sniper just put his senses on higher alert, which turned out to be a good thing, he found six more survivors, two more children. By the end of the day – everyone was patting him on the back, and calling him hero.

XXXXXXXX

She knew she was in shock, she had to be. First the explosion, then him there, then finding the survivors, then the baby, shot, pulled out of there over his massive shoulder, and then his mouth – she tried to remember when she'd tasted ANYTHING so clearly before. His hands had been brutal, ripping through the debris to get to the child, ripping through the body protecting it, but so gentle lifting it out of there, holding it – then holding her. She shouldn't be surprised she knew both sides of those hands – quite intimately.

_"We can't have that again, I promise to untie you if you are good" He leered at her, before taking the bone of her ankle into his mouth and sucking on it. She bit her lip, she didn't care what it took she was getting out of here – away from this bastard. She was straining against the cloth holding her to the bed, and tried to yank her foot from his hand. He just licked her instep, and then nipped gently the ball of her foot._

_"None of that, Darlin." He whispered as he trailed his lips up to the back of her knee, this time she couldn't stop the moan. DAMN that felt good. It wasn't supposed to feel good, damn him. She felt something damp against her inner thigh and realized he was wiping away the blood and other fluids from earlier. She moaned again. FUCK HIM! How dare he?_

_He was right though – if it hadn't hurt so much, she probably would have enjoyed the first time. She did want him, damn it. How had she let it get this far. He was a fucking murderer, an assassin, a hit man, he lived outside the law, broke it with ease and long practice and she was a cop sworn to uphold it. She moaned again as his lips followed the path of the cloth as he kissed her thigh._

_"Please." She heard herself. She wasn't even sure what she was begging for. Please stop, or please don't stop._

_"That sounded so pretty, Dana, do it again." He whispered against her stomach as he kissed around her navel. Her lower body was pressed to the mattress by his weight as he worked his way up. She moaned as his hands gripped her hips again, as he pulled himself up, until he was looking her in the eye. She moaned at the feel of his skin sliding across hers, and she whispered her plea again. _

_"Please." He brushed her lips with his, and gently traced them with his tongue. She moaned as she felt him against her, his body ready to take her again. This time she wasn't fighting, and she moaned as he slid inside her. _

_"Was that what you wanted, Darlin." He whispered as her back arched against him. He knew damned well it was what she wanted; even the slight twinge of discomfort as he brushed the torn flesh inside her pushed her closer to screaming, and this time not with pain._

_"Oh GOD!" She moaned as her hands were suddenly freed, and she could do what she wanted, which was bury them in his mane of hair and grab his mouth with hers._

_"That's it, Baby. Come for me." He whispered against her mouth as her body pushed her to comply with his command. She tried to close her eyes, but he captured them with his, and suddenly she couldn't tear them away. His eyes were so black, but not featureless, there was a slightly lighter line around his iris, almost grey and his pupils were the deep black of terror and fear in the middle of the night. She moaned and felt her body reaching its limit. _

_She couldn't keep her eyes open, and the explosion of stars on the inside of her eyelids as she reached her climax was as bright as his eyes were dark. He didn't quit, didn't let up as her body trembled under him, she could still feel him moving, and without warning another orgasm wracked through her. _

_"Beautiful – Baby." He whispered against her ear, before she felt him shudder, burying his face in her neck as his climax ripped through him._

_She was panting, his body still pinning her to the mattress. She hoped he'd roll over and go to sleep, but he didn't. He didn't move for a second and she realized that even with his climax he was still stiff and hard inside her. _

_"That took me by surprise – but don't think I'm done with you yet." He said finally. She groaned as he started moving again. HOW the HELL could he do this, she knew what his jacket said – that he was some kind of mutant, but what kind she didn't know._

_"Why are you doing this?" She whispered, moaning from the ache building again insider her._

_"That's question number six – what are you gonna do for me, to get your answers?" He grinned as she closed her eyes again as another orgasm ripped through her. "That's good, but not enough." _

_He didn't stop, and she could honestly say she didn't want him to._

_It was around dawn when they both dropped from exhaustion, he had one arm draped over her waist in his sleep, and she was finally clear headed enough to realize what she'd done. She'd not only LET him get by with raping her, she'd ended up BEGGING him for it. She was so mortified she couldn't stand herself. She'd begged him to let her touch him, begged him to let her taste him, she could still feel him thick and hot in her mouth, almost more than she could handle, but she'd managed – and from his incoherent groan as he came in her mouth, he'd enjoyed every second._

_He'd been rough – and so damned gentle it hurt. She wanted to scream from the pain, the problem was, there were no injuries for this pain – no visible scars. She hated him for what he'd made her do – but a part of her, a part she tried very damned hard to ignore, loved him for it. She slipped out from under his arm, and gathered her clothes where they were scattered across the floor. _

_"You leavin'?" He asked._

_"I don't know." She said softly._

_"Dana." It was just her name, but she turned and looked at him._

_"I don't want to go, let me stay." She whispered._

_"I can't, you know that." His face showed real regret._

_"Please." She couldn't believe she was begging him to let her stay, but she couldn't stop herself, no more than she could have stopped herself from coming here last night. She'd known when she walked through that door, what was going to happen, and she'd welcomed it. It wouldn't have even been rape – the first time – if she hadn't gotten scared of the pain. She'd wanted him…her no hadn't been stop, it had been slow down, and she'd gotten EVERYTHING she'd hoped for from him – and more._

She opened her eyes, and stared up at the ceiling. Ceiling? She'd been at the site of the explosion, with Creed. Where was she? 

"Ahh – Detective, good to see you awake." A man in blue scrubs walked behind the curtain surrounding her bed. She was in a hospital. She tried to hide the blush. Her dream had been vivid – dream or memory did it really matter? She'd ended up leaving, and he had definitely given her more than she'd expected – or asked for – or deserved. She wouldn't trade Nat for anything on Earth, although she might consider giving him visitation if she could have a night like that again.

She slapped herself in the head with her free arm, the one that wasn't tied up in a sling with IV's running into it. What the HELL was she thinking?

"Was it something I said?" The doctor asked with a laugh.

"I don't know what drugs you gave me, but they need to STOP now!" She growled at him. The doctor just shook his head, and pushed back the curtain. She moaned. HE was there, with Avery, chatting like nothing was going on.

"How long have I been out?" She snapped at both of them.

"Since you passed out in triage this afternoon." Avery said. Creed gave her a look, a very hungry, very predatorial, very possessive look. She concentrated on her partner, trying to ignore him. It wasn't working.

"We pulled six more survivors out, after you passed out. They got a shift of guys in from the outer departments and sent us home to clean up and rest before going back in the morning." She noticed something strange, Creed wasn't looking at her. He looked almost embarrassed about something. "They got the dogs in after Creed was so helpful with that nose of his, and they have lights up and working through the night."

Avery looked like he was ready to drop – even Creed, no Victor, looked tired, the last time she'd seen him this tired…she cut that thought off.

"No word on the sniper, but he was only shooting at people wearing your department's ID on the coveralls." Victor said, she could hear the weariness in his voice. "We are putting your entire department in vests while they are working the blast scene, just to be sure."

She just nodded. Her arm was stiff, but not entirely painful, which said more for the drugs they had her on than the injury itself.

"I'm assigning myself to you full time." She flinched under the intensity of his gaze.

"Anything to get to see Nat." She said sharply. He lunged at her on the bed, his face stopping only inches from hers.

"This has NOTHING to do with NAT! YOU were SHOT, woman, and I am NOT letting my woman die without doing everything in my power to protect her." He snarled low, she could feel it vibrating in his chest and into hers as he leaned over her. It started other things tightening low in her gut and she almost moaned, but not in pain. He brushed her lips with his and whispered "You got that?"

"I am NOT your woman, Creed." She snapped.

"Like HELL you're not." He snapped back.

"Now, gentlemen, Detective Wallis needs to rest."

"I need to go home. I have a ten year old daughter." She said.

"Nat can stay with us." Avery said.

"No, I NEED to be home with her." She said. And she did. She needed to gather her little girl up in her good arm, brush her long blonde curls, she NEEDED it. She looked up into Victor's face. He hadn't moved, but he saw her need.

"I'll take care of her – of them." He said simply. She didn't feel like fighting, and yet she knew she had a battle royal on her hands.

"I don't want you to." She said it softly.

"Too bad." He snapped.

"I can't stop you from leaving, but I will put it was against my recommendation in the record." The doctor said.

"Fine, but get me the hell out of here." She snapped at him. The doctor grumbled but snagged one of the emergency room nurses to pull the IVs out and get her on her way. She signed the self release forms without a bit of regret. She needed to be home – and she needed to be on that scene in the morning. This wasn't just some building – some random group of people. These were her friends, her co workers, her family, and she was going to do everything she could to find them – and find out who did this.

She actually leaned on Victor's arm as he led her out of the ER. She knew exactly why they weren't fighting her leaving, as soon as she walked out of the curtain. This was one of the smaller hospitals in the city – and they were packed. She watched as they turned away three ambulances because they were full. The city hadn't ever seen devastation like this, and she prayed it never would again.

He helped her into his truck. She didn't argue, but she was going to lay down some ground rules.

She waited until he got in and belted himself into the driver's seat before she said anything.

"You can't tell her who you are." She said.

'WHAT?"

"I'll let you take care of us, but you can't tell her you are her father."

"That won't work, Dana." He said quietly.

"It will have to – or you are dropping me off at Avery's."

"She already knows."

"What?"

"She called me eighteen months ago. She's been asking to see me." He said it softly, but the words still cut through her like a knife. She felt betrayed, angry, and it wasn't HIS fault. Nat had taken the initiative.

"Well, that changes things." She said. "I guess I sounded pretty foolish, saying you couldn't see her. You were both going behind my back."

"It's not like that. I told her it would be up to you, and I meant it." She was surprised by the lack of anger, lack of venom in his voice.

"We're both tired." She said, giving him an out, he could just drop the whole thing, bring it up later.

"No – we need to have this out – before she's involved."

"Victor…"

"Say it again."

"What?"

"My name, say it again."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't hear it enough, even when you are spitting mad, it does something to me." He groaned.

"We don't have time for this."

"TAKE the TIME!" This time he did roar, but it seemed like he poured all his energy into it. He pulled off, onto the shoulder of the road, and turned to face her. "I've been through hell today, in more ways than one. I am not in the mood to play games, Dana. I'm tired of your games; it's time to play by my rules."

"We don't…"

"YOU listen to me. You and Nat are mine – got me. I take care of what's mine. You were SHOT today, Dana. You aren't a mutant, you don't heal, that bullet could have KILLED you, I've let you have your independence; let you think you ran the show, because you needed it, but no more."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"This." He reached out and grabbed the back of her neck, and pulled her to him, his lips crashed down on hers, his fangs cutting her lip as he forced his way inside with his tongue. She moaned – her body was screaming for him to finish this, but she knew this wasn't the time or the place. She couldn't find the strength to push him away.

"Here's how this is going to work." He said with a snarl as he pulled away from her, and pushed her back into her seat. "You and I will sit down with Nat, tell her the fucking truth, and then we will go back to your cracker box house until I can find us something better. Tomorrow, you wear a vest under your fucking clothes, because I am NOT losing you, not to some fucking sniper. I don't give a shit about your job, Dana, I know you are good at it, and it doesn't matter a hill of beans to me if you stay with it or not. I can take care of us."

He was driving again, and issuing orders like a drill sergeant. She glared, but waited until he took a breath to interrupt.

"And I don't have any say in this?" She said sarcastically.

"NO you FUCKING DON'T! YOU don't have a say in SHIT right now. I let you go – once, I'm not doing it again."

"You never let me go, I left."

"You BEGGED me to let you stay."

"You bastard."

"We've been over that – and that's another thing, Dana. She's my CUB, MINE, and I'll be DAMNED if she's going to be a bastard."

"WHAT?"

"As soon as we get a breather in this mess, you and I are getting married." He snarled it.

"Like HELL!"

"WOMAN, that wasn't a request." He slammed on the breaks in front of Avery's house.

"HOW the HELL did you know where Avery lives?"

"I should, I pay for the damned mortgage." He snapped back.

"WHAT!?"

"If you THINK I'd let you roam around with MY KID and NOT be watched, you are insane."

"Avery works for YOU!"

"Yeah – but he's a good cop too." He said it grudgingly. "Now get the hell out of the damned car, we have a conversation with our daughter to manage."

"NO!"

"Woman, I am NOT in the mood for this. Either you get the fuck out of the car, and walk in there WITH me, or I'm going in, grabbing Nat and dragging her ass out her to the car and we can have the talk while she's scared out of her mind." She glared at him, but his determined gaze met hers and she bowed her head. He'd do it.

"Fine. But you'll have to help me. I'm not sure I can walk on my own."

"I'll fucking carry you, if you ask nicely." He quipped.

"Please." She whispered the word. "Please Victor, let's not fight."

She was stunned when he bowed his head, and just nodded. He yanked open the car door and stormed around the truck. She could feel the pain killers wearing off, and knew she needed to get someplace and lie down, and quickly.

He yanked open her door and reached in and gently lifted her out of the truck. She just slipped her good arm around his neck, and whimpered as he tried not to jostle the bandages on her bad arm.

"In pain?" He asked softly, against her ear as he carried her up the front walk.

"A little." She replied.

"I have the pain killers the doctor gave you; you can take one when we get inside." He wasn't snarling, and she wasn't arguing. She might have some fight in her tomorrow, but right now she was exhausted, in pain, and about to face introducing her daughter to her father.


	5. Chapter 5

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He sat her down on her feet in front of the door. She glanced at him in confusion.

"You don't want her to see you being carried. Never present a frail front, Dana." He said and knocked on the door. He confused her.

Leslie opened the door with a wary glance at Victor.

"Dana, are you alright. Avery called and told me. I just told Nat you were hurt at the site." Leslie ushered her into the house, cutting between her and Victor protectively. Dana fought a grin – she wasn't the ONLY one who thought they needed protected from him.

"MOM!" Nat came running up and threw her arms around Dana's waist. "Are you alright? Was it bad, the news keeps showing these pictures and they are horrible? There's NOTHING else on TV." Her face was buried against Dana's stomach, so the words were muffled.

"It hurts, but I'll be okay." She smiled and ruffled Natalie's hair with her good hand. The feeling of relief, knowing she was safe, even though she had known all day, but having her there, physically it was better than any drug the doctor could give her. She kept seeing those small bodies lined up on the street, and every time she'd passed them, they all seemed to look like Nat.

She felt a hand at her back, and knew he was waiting. Well he could just damned well wait; at least until she could sit down, her head was feeling light from standing on her own.

"Nat, Baby, Mommy needs to sit down, okay." Nat jumped to her good side to help her. Dana fought back the tears, and put her good arm around her daughter's shoulders. She'd been hurt once before, in the line of duty, but Nat had only been three at the time, so this was the first time for the little girl. Dana was so proud of how she was handling this; she just hoped she handled the rest as well.

"Why don't you sit in here, Gwyn and I have dinner ready, if you are hungry." Leslie said, her eyes shooting daggers at the man still in shadows behind Dana, as she pointed to the quiet formal living room. Natalie reached over and turned on a light and helped Dana settle onto the couch. Dana heard her intake of breath as Victor stepped into the room and she waited for her daughter's reaction.

"DAD!?" She just stood there a second.

"What makes you say that?" He said lightly.

Natalie looked confused for a second, and then grinned. "It is YOU!" She didn't even glance at Dana, just ran and threw her arms around his waist. Dana bit back the grin at the uncomfortable expression on his face, and then stopped, she didn't care what he thought, and she was vastly amused at just how uncomfortable a ten year old girl was making the big bad Sabretooth.

"I can't believe you're here." Nat said finally, letting him go, a little confused by his lack of a reaction.

"Yeah – well, I'm gonna be helping take care of your Mom." He said.

"Really, like come over and really be at the house some." 

"No, I'll be at the house all the time." He snapped.

Dana's heart cracked at the ecstatic expression on her daughter's face. THIS was why she didn't want him around. Natalie wore her heart on her face, and she didn't want to have to be the one to pick up the crushed pieces of her life when he tromped all over them both.

"Victor will be staying in the guest room, until I am better." Dana said shortly.

"NO! I won't." He snapped at her.

"We are NOT having this fight now." Dana said, and she could see the joy draining out of Natalie's face.

"You two don't like each other, do you?" She asked.

"No!" Dana said simply.

"YES!" Victor roared.

"Which is it?" The child's confusion filled the room.

"Your Mom doesn't like me – I like her just fine." He said, leering at Dana over Natalie's head.

"You are going to stay with us for a while?" Nat asked.

"Yes, he'll be staying with us for a while." Dana said, but didn't let her trepidation at that arrangement come through in her voice. Nat was happy, for now, and SHE wasn't going to be the one to ruin it. If HE broke her heart, Dana was going to have to be the one to fix it, and she just knew it would happen, it was happening already.

"Get your things, Trooper." He said, patting her awkwardly on the head. "We need to get your Mom home and in bed." She was shocked; he'd managed not to make it sound dirty. She gave him a grateful look. She didn't need more awkward questions from Nat, not yet.

Nat jumped and ran to get her bathing suit and towel and the toys she'd brought over.

"That went well." He said.

"That's just the beginning." Dana said. "You really want to be a part of her life? Have her hug you; come to you complaining about boys? And we haven't even HIT puberty yet." She said stiffly. He glared, but the look softened - if that could be said about him - into something closer to puzzlement.

"Boys?" He said with a snarl. Dana laughed.

"She's getting to that age."

"Not till she's thirty, at least." He grumbled, causing Dana to laugh again. She might not be able to get under his skin, make him uncomfortable, but Nat certainly did. She wondered if the key to getting rid of Victor Creed wasn't his own flesh and blood.

"What's so damned funny?" He growled.

"You." He glared at her, but Natalie came running back into the room, her backpack ready to go.

"You made Mom laugh. Maybe she does like you after all." Nat said, he shot her one of his glares, but she just grinned, ignoring it. He didn't faze her, not yet. Dana knew Nat had reason to fear, his temper for one thing, but for NOW Dana felt Nat was safe.

"Let's go, Avery can bring your car back later." He growled at Dana.

"Get Nat loaded first, I'll get Les to help me to the car." He glared, but nodded.

"I don't like that man.' Leslie said as she walked into the room, almost as soon as the other two left.

"Were you listening?" Dana asked.

"Yes."

"Then you know."

"That he's Nat's father, I guessed that the first time I saw Nat." Leslie said.

"What?"

"He helped Avery out of a tight spot back in Boston, I didn't like him then, and I don't like him now. He's arrogant, and full of himself, and there's just something dangerous about him."

"You don't know the half of it." Dana muttered.

"You are going to let him take care of you?"

"I don't have a hell of a lot of choice." Dana replied.

"You could stay here – both of you." Leslie said.

"No, he and I need to settle this, and Nat wants to spend some time with him. I don't LIKE it, but I don't think it's a bad thing either, she has to know what he's like sometime, this idealized 'Dad' in her head isn't him."

Leslie just nodded, and helped her out the front door and down the walk in silence. Dana was grateful, she knew Victor might have heard the conversation in the house, and she KNEW he'd hear anything they said on the way to the car. She just hoped Nat hadn't found her private file on Mr. Victor Creed, or this was going to get even uglier. She hissed as she settled into the seat, banging her shoulder.

"We forgot your pain pill." He said.

"I'll take it at my house." She said.

"No, you'll take it when WE get home." He growled.

"Whatever." She snapped. He glared, and turned the engine over. Natalie was settled in the back seat of the cab, behind the driver's seat so she could see her. Dana didn't like the quiet look on her face.

"Nat, when we get home, you go get a bath and get ready for bed. I think tomorrow you can skip church, with everything going on, it would be best." She said. "Maybe you can go visit Grandma."

"I want to stay home." She said quietly.

"Nat, your Mom and I have a few things we are going to need to work out, and we may be fighting – a lot – tomorrow." He said simply. She was surprised by the gentle way he spoke to her daughter – their daughter.

"I want to be with Mom." She said simply.

He growled low, but didn't argue. Dana was actually pleased with his restraint. He glared at her, a look that she took to mean they would discuss her amusement at his expense later.

XXXXXXX

The cub smelled like him. He'd noticed it a little, at the recital, but he hadn't been close enough to catch more than a trace of her scent. He was surprised at just how much like him she was. She was happy to see him, then confused, and now – well the kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide – she had to get THAT from her mother. These two frails were going to drive him insane, before the night was over.

He pulled through a drive through and ordered dinner, Dana tried to protest, but her pain was growing as the morphine they'd given her at the hospital wore off. He needed to get her home and comfortable before she passed out on him and he had to carry her. Nat was worried he could smell it, in fact the entire cab of the truck was filling with smells he tended to avoid; pain, fear, confusion, and something between the two of them, if he had to put a name to such a frail, thing, he might call it affection or even love.

He pulled up into the driveway of the house they lived in. He wanted to snarl at her, that she could have so much better, if she'd just let him…let him what, take care of them? She hadn't done half bad. She'd stayed clean with the department, been promoted regularly, even as a single mom, she'd managed to have time for her job and her daughter, and still provide her a safe home, admittedly not up to HIS standards, but it wasn't half bad.

"Did you change the alarm code?" He asked Dana.

"I'm not an IDIOT!" She snapped. He grinned.

"Good thing I know the master code for these systems." He snapped back. He opened the door and pulled her key ring out of his pocket. He grinned and walked to the door unlocking it. Nat jumped out of the truck to follow him.

"GET YOUR ASS BACK IN THAT TRUCK!" He roared. No cub of his was going to go ANYWHERE until he'd checked it out first. He didn't even flinch at the stricken look on her face as he ducked inside the door, turned off the alarm, and went through the house room by room to make sure it was safe. He finally went to the door, they were still inside the truck, and he grinned. The cub could learn he just hoped the mother could too.

"All clear." He said as he opened the truck door. He smelled tears, and looked at Dana. She was furious, but no sign of the salty scent on her. He glanced at Nat curled up against her in the front seat, her head just below the bandage on her mother's shoulder.

"NAT! That's your mother's injured side." He snapped.

"Quit. She's not used to being snapped at like that." Dana said, her eyes flashing.

"SHIT! Get your…go in the house, it's clear. I'll get dinner and your Mom inside." He said, he thought with a gentle tone. It sounded like a growl even to his ears. The child grabbed her bag and ran for the house; he could smell the salt on her as she passed.

"She'll get used to it." He said as he opened the passenger door to help Dana out of the truck.

"No, she won't because it has to stop." Dana said. He just growled and slipped his arm under her knees, lifting her as gently as he could from the seat. He would come back for the bags of food.

She didn't know what she was talking about. She and the cub were his; he'd be the one telling HER how things would be. He set her down in a chair in the living room and went back out for the bags; he could hear the cub upstairs. This crying shit was going to have to stop – NOW!

No cub of his was going to be that frail, the kid needed to toughen up. They had a long day tomorrow – Dana was off recovery duty until Monday, but he still needed to go back to the site in the morning, so he needed to get these two settled, and quickly. He just thanked whatever beings were looking over him that it was just the station, not the court house. Getting a marriage license shouldn't be that difficult. He wasn't above taking advantage of the situation, his advantage.

He dropped the bags on the table in the kitchen and grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water from the fridge. She needed her pills, he could smell the pain radiating off of her, even in the kitchen. He carried the glass, and one pill from the plastic bottle to her, handing her both, silently.

"Thank you." She whispered, and he glanced at her. She was pale – too pale. She'd let the morphine wear off completely, damn it. He didn't want her completely doped up, they still had things to settle, but he didn't want her passing out from the pain either.

"Just take it, you'll feel better in a bit." He snarled, and went back to the kitchen. He didn't know if she would be able to keep anything down, sometimes those pills did that, but she needed to eat something. He'd ordered her a triple meat hamburger with cheese. She needed the protein to build up the blood she'd lost. He carried it in to her, along with a fresh glass of iced tea from the fridge.

"I'll get Nat fed." He said simply.

"Good luck." She said, with that snide smile she'd been wearing half the evening.

"She'll LEARN to deal with me." He snarled.

"Good luck." She said again, and closed her eyes against the pain. He almost grabbed the wounded shoulder, just to make it worse, but even he knew that probably wasn't a wise move under the circumstances. He just turned and headed for the stairs.

She was sitting on her bed, and he could see the damned weak tears drying on her face. Why the fuck did frails do that? There was no damned use for it, it just pissed him off.

"Dinner's ready." He said – trying not to be too sharp. It sounded like he barked an order, shit. She just glared.

"I'm not hungry."

"Nat, Trooper, come on." He sat on the edge of her bed. Tonight was the first time he'd been within touching distance of her in her entire life, and he was fighting some strange instincts that were urging him to touch her, hold her. She was a CUB for crying out loud, useless until her mutation was fully active, she didn't deserve his attention yet, but here he was.

"Why did you yell at me like that?" She snapped. He bit the inside of his lip to keep from yelling back and took a deep breath and counted to ten.

"It's a safety thing; I don't trust anything, okay. Even my own house, I won't let anyone go in, especially if I am responsible for their safety without checking it out first." He HATED having to explain himself to ANYONE – least of all a ten year old cub.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense." She sniffled, and then suddenly her arms were around his neck and she was leaning on his shoulder, her hair brushing against his cheek. He was at a loss. He didn't know WHAT to do. He sat there, and then her shoulders started shaking, and he could hear the sobs. He wanted to grab her by the throat to stop them and started to raise his hands to do it, but something else took over, and he wrapped his arms around her and just patted her awkwardly on the back.

"Come on – let's get you fed." He grumbled, hating himself for the moment of weakness.

"Thanks, Dad." She sniffled, and then jumped from the bed and ran for the door. He would NEVER, ever, in his entire life, understand cubs. He was shaking his head as he walked down the stairs. Dana was watching from the living room, a bemused look on her face. That ALMOST made what happened upstairs worthwhile.

XXXXXX

Nat came running down the stairs, grinning, and dashed for the kitchen to get her dinner. Dana shook her head – maybe the big galoot actually had some kind of parenting instincts after all. Something he'd done had brought a smile back to her little girl's face. He didn't look very happy when he came down the stairs

"Is she alright?" He asked, pointing to the kitchen.

Dana laughed.

"She's a normal ten year old who just met her father; she's going to be a little up and down for a bit."

"That's NORMAL!"

"For her, yeah."

He just shook his head and walked into the kitchen. She could hear her daughter chattering a mile a minute, and chuckled. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, having someone else to listen to her idle chatter for a while. She heard something crash and Nat came out with a strange look on her face.

"Dad said to come eat in here with you…something about magpies and getting a shotgun." Dana just laughed harder, the pain medication was starting to work, and she could really see the humor in the situation.

"What was the crash?"

"Dad dropped a plate." She chuckled, and then paused. She hoped to hell it wasn't her good china. "Are you feeling better, Mom?"

"A little, the medicine the doctor gave me is helping." She was feeling drowsy but not as drowsy as she expected.

They ate quietly for a few minutes, and then Nat started in about how her day with Gwyn had been, and all the news coverage of the 'accident;' the press was calling it an accident. Dana had serious doubts about that. She heard a low growl from the kitchen, and couldn't stop grinning. Nat was driving him insane. Maybe all she'd ever needed to do, to get him to leave them alone was LET him see her – hell if it was this bad after a couple hours, imagine how insane he'd be after a weekend. A large part of her was gleeful at his discomfort, while a very small part was starting to feel just a little guilty.

"Nat – leave your Mom alone, okay." He said, as he stepped into the living room.

"Sorry." She muttered.

"It's alright, Baby. I don't mind." She said pulling the little girl into a hug on her good side. "Go upstairs and get your things put away, hang up your suit to dry, and get your bath, okay." She said.

"Will you tuck me in?"

"If I am able, if not Dad will." She said, his snarling growl his only response to that bold statement. Nat gave him a strange, guarded look.

"I'll be okay." She said. She picked up her plate and took it into the kitchen. Dana heard her rinse it off and put it in the dishwasher before heading up the stairs.

"Dana – this has to stop." He muttered.

"What?"

"HER!" He growled.

"What do you mean?" She chuckled.

"Does the child ever BREATHE?" Dana couldn't help it she burst out laughing, and it felt good – partially it was the medication, but partially it was his complete lack of composure. SOMETHING had gotten to him, broken him down, and he was – almost human for just a second.

"What the hell is so damned funny?" The mask was back, as hard as ever.

"You." She tried to stop the laughter. He growled.

"There are going to be some changes around here. I'm not putting up with all that chatter, and the water works have to stop, NO cub of mine is going to be that frail."

"Victor, she's ten, and exuberant, and HAPPY! Don't make changes you won't like the consequences of." Dana said simply.

"What does that mean?"

"Take it slow with Nat. She isn't going to just accept your authority; I sure as hell know I won't. I don't know how she's going to handle this, but she's already starting to close up around you, and I need her to be open with me – with us, if you are going to be here. She and I have a very open relationship, I make sure she can talk to me about anything, secrets, and anger won't help that any." She was rambling; it had to be the medication.

"She needs to be more cautious, anyone could have been in here." He snarled. "I need her to trust me, to know if I say duck she needs to duck first. I am NOT explaining myself to her every five seconds. We may not have that kind of time."

"Victor, this is our home, and she feels safe here." She said. "She needs that safety."

"No place is safe, not even home." He snarled.

"It is for her, and I don't want her to lose that, not yet." She said, and she watched as something close to comprehension passed over his face.

"I get it, but I'm still changing some rules." He snarled again.

"We can discuss changing things – later. Now isn't the time." She said simply.

"Why not?" She didn't like the sly look on his face.

"Because I'm doped up on pain killers, and not ready to fight this fight."

"Just 'cuz you're frail don't mean I am." He snapped.

"No, but if it's to be a FAIR fight – something, if we are going to fight, she needs to understand – we BOTH need to be ready to face it. I don't want her thinking that fighting dirty is the way to handle things."

"But, Dana, that's how I fight." He said with a leer and a grin.

"VICTOR!"

"Alright – for now. I'll leave the kid alone, she stays under your rules, until you feel up to fighting about my changes, but they WILL be made, and soon." He snarled. "Now YOU are going to bed, and no arguing."

"Nope, no arguing. I'm exhausted." She said. He was puffed up, ready for a fight, and she watched the confusion across his face.

He just shook his head and picked her up out of the chair. She slipped her good arm around his neck, and deep inside, where she hoped he couldn't sense it, admitted to herself it felt good to be safe in his arms.

He set her down on the side of the bed and walked to her dresser. He pulled out one of her sleep tees and a pair of shorts and handed them to her.

"Doc said to wait until morning for a shower, make sure the 'skin' sets." He said. "You'll have to make due with a sponge bath." He walked into her bathroom and damped a washcloth from the rack in hot water, she could see the steam in the sink..

"I'm fine. I am sure I can bathe myself." She said, a small thrill running down her spine at the thought of his hands on her body.

"Nope. We still have some things to discuss – like sleeping arrangements, and you aren't passing out on me from over doing it." He said a glint in his eye that she knew meant danger – of the worst kind, the kind that left her begging for more, and she didn't have the strength to fight him tonight.

He gently unbuttoned her blouse. The sleeve and shoulder had been cut away on the left side, and he used the sharp edge of his claw to cut the left seam and remove the bloodstained cloth from her body. The bandage and sling had hidden most of the blood from Nat, thank goodness. He helped her stand and slipped the skirt down around her feet, leaving her in just her bra and underwear under his gaze.

He picked up the cloth, and gently started wiping her good arm and neck and shoulder.

"I'm not sleeping in the guest room." He whispered as he leaned in to wipe across the back of her shoulder, his mouth was against her ear.

"You're not sleeping here." She said firmly.

"Wasn't plannin' on a whole lot of sleep, to be honest." He grinned.

"You are sick."

"No – you are mine." His lips trailed across her cheek as he leaned back to wash her neck.

"And not in the mood for this." She snapped, as his hands moved down below the bottom strap of her bra as he wiped the cloth across her stomach. She couldn't help the goose bumps as his hot hands followed the cooling rag across her skin. She was trying to fight what his touch was doing to her, but the drugs had her halfway defeated before she even started to fight.

He walked into the bathroom, leaving her breathing heavily as she waited for him to rinse the rag, and come back to torture her some more.

"Dana – you are definitely in the 'mood' for this, physically ABLE right now is another question." He grinned as he gently wiped the blood from her left side. She could swear his tongue followed the rag and she groaned, remembering exactly what that tongue was capable of. It might have been eleven years – but she hadn't forgotten. How could she, her fantasies of him were all the relief she managed for herself.

He was wiping down her side, very properly too, when Nat walked in the door. She blushed.

"Um, Dad, Mom's in her underwear."

"I know, Trooper." He grinned.

"Umm, why are you in here with her in her underwear. Mom says it's not right to let someone see you in your underwear."

"Oh really?" He shot her an evil look, one full of promise that he'd see her in far less; one that melted the last of her resistance, and then looked straight at Nat. "I'm cleaning your Mom up. She can't get a shower, and she's not able to do this right now, okay."

"Okay. I finished my bath." Nat said.

"Come here; let me kiss you good night." Dana said.

The little girl ran in under his arm and hugged her. Dana kissed the top of her head and then her nose.

"Go on to bed – it's almost ten o'clock."

"I know – I am going to read my book for a while." She held up the latest Harry Potter, Dana smiled and nodded.

"Half an hour and then lights out." She said. Nat nodded, and walked slowly out of the room. At the door she turned, and looked at Victor.

"The guest room is down the hall." Dana bit her lip to keep from chuckling.

"I know where it is." He said.

"Good night." Nat said, very firmly. Dana listened until she heard the click of her door.

"Now where were we?" He whispered.

"With me about to go to sleep – and you about to go to the guest room."

"Nope."

"Victor, Nat won't understand."

"What – that we are sleeping together, we are getting married, I sure as fuck ain't sleepin' in the guest room after that!" He snapped.

"I haven't agreed to that."

"I am not giving you the choice." He ground out, his claws slipping out to rake behind the rag as he wiped her legs. She tried to bite back the moan as he hit the back of her knee with the rag. "See – I know what makes you tick. You are mine, Dana; you have been for eleven years."

"I don't know what you are talking about." She said sharply, pulling her leg out of his grasp. So he knew where to touch, that didn't make him 'husband' material.

He picked her up and pulled the blankets back and helped her settle against the pillows on 'her' side of the bed. He walked around the bed and to the door, and she started to sigh, until he closed it and turned back, dropping his jacket in the chair.

"I'm too tired to deal with this right now. I'm not going anywhere, least of all to the guest room, get used to it." It was almost a snarl, but she heard something else – almost a plea. Suddenly something registered. He WAS tired, they both were. After what they'd been through today, she wasn't really in the mood to fight him on this; she didn't want to be alone either.

"Fine we can fight about it in the morning. Don't snore." She couldn't roll on to her left side to avoid him, and he grinned as he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the chair with his jacket. She closed her eyes, but that didn't help. The sight of his naked chest was seared on her eyelids. She could hear him unfasten his belt, and unzip his pants, and she bit her lip as she heard the soft material drop to the floor, with a slight chink of the change in his pockets and the keys. She felt the other side of the bed dip, and then his body heat under the blankets.

"I'm covered; you can open your eyes." He said. She could FEEL just how uncovered he was. He reached over and slipped one claw under the left bra strap and she felt it give way. "Sit up."

She did what he asked, and he unfastened the bra in the back and helped her take it off. It did feel better, in one way, and made her feel far more uncomfortable and unsafe in another.

"I'm not going to hurt you Dana, you're tired, you've been shot, and you aren't up for shit." He said softly, as he rested his hand on her stomach. "If you want, I'll help you into your sleepwear, but it will be easier this way." He said, pointing to the forgotten clothes on the foot of the bed. She just nodded, his hand making lazy circles across her stomach. One finger found one of the faint stretch marks from her pregnancy and traced it gently.

"I did that." It was a statement not a question. 

"No, Nat did that." She grinned a little.

"No, I did that – I gave her to you." He whispered as he lay back on the pillow next to her. She'd never seen him like this, heard of him ever acting like this. It was strange, unexpected and had her completely off guard. He was gentle, but not like he wanted something, just relaxed.

"Go to sleep, Victor." She snapped, wishing she could curl up on her side.

"Workin' on it." He said softly he reached over the bed and flicked the second switch there, turning off the lights. His hand went back to her stomach, covering almost the entire expanse from just under her breasts to the top of her rather conservative panties. She lay there listening to him breathe in her ear, her body refusing to relax, even under the influence of the powerful pain killers.

"Dana, either go to sleep, or I'm gonna make you go to sleep." He muttered.

"I can't. I'm not used to someone in bed with me." She snapped.

"You asked for it." He whispered, his tongue tracing the curve of her ear as his hand slipped under the edge of her panties. She reached to stop him when he grabbed her earlobe gently in his teeth. "I just want you to relax and go to sleep, let me take care of you Dana."

She moaned as his fingers slipped between her thighs. She didn't think, with the medication she was on that this would do any good, it would just frustrate her further, but he knew what he was doing. She was biting her lip to keep from moaning.

"Relax, Dana."

"I don't want Nat to hear me." She said through clenched teeth.

"She's gonna have to get used to it. I want to hear you scream." He whispered, trailing his lips down her throat. She hated how he could manipulate her body so perfectly, even after all these years.

"I am NOT screaming for you." She hissed.

"Maybe not tonight – but Dana, you WILL scream for me." He said as he maneuvered down her body, taking her nipple in his mouth, and she almost did. Her body couldn't take it anymore and she felt herself let go. He was right – not tonight, it was like her throat locked up and she couldn't make a sound, her entire body trembled with her release. His soft laughter was the first thing she heard as soon as she could hear anything again.

"The only thing that would have made that better – for me – would have been to be inside you." He said, licking his way back to her neck. She just groaned, because that thought started a whole new set of tingles down her back. He reached down and took her good hand and slipped it around him. "How about helpin' a guy out?"

She couldn't believe it. He ASKED her to help him. She considered saying no, rolling over and going to sleep, but the velvet flesh over hard steel under her hand twitched at her light touch and she knew she wouldn't be able to leave him alone. He'd found her weakness, she loved the feel of him, in her hand, in her mouth, inside her body, she couldn't say no.

She felt the damp evidence that he'd not been far from the truth with his statement. He'd come close, without her touching him, and she used that to help her hand glide along his ridged shaft. She stroked gently, softly, knowing it would drive him insane, deliberately leaving the tip untouched unless she needed more moisture for her hand. He was groaning in her ear in seconds, and she would swear she heard a whimper as she slid her palm over his tip to gather another bead of moisture.

"Damn it, woman, who taught you to do that?" He groaned in her ear.

"You did." She grinned, and then did something that shocked her. She kissed him, her lips gently tracing his open mouth as he gasped as she brushed the sensitive head again. He looked into her eyes, and gave up, capturing her mouth with his, his body rigid under her hand as she built the pressure inside him. He had – taught her what he liked that night, and it was a lesson she wasn't ever going to forget, not when it gave her this kind of power over him. Suddenly he was on top of her, slipping between her thighs and thrusting deep into her. She winced in pain as her shoulder was jostled.

"Damn – couldn't wait." He said by way of apology and kissed her again. She didn't care at this point, her body was screaming for his, and pain or not, he was here and she was taking advantage of it. This time she screamed right into his mouth, and he muffled it, his own roar of satisfaction following a few seconds later, into the pillow next to her head.

"I tried." He said finally as her breathing returned to normal. She had to chuckle. He could honestly say he tried all right. He was right about one thing, she was more relaxed, and surprised herself when she rolled onto her right side, and against his chest, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Go to sleep, Victor." She whispered, he chuckled, but she didn't hear if he said anything else. She felt his arm slip around her waist, supporting her wounded arm at the elbow, as she closed her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dana winced at the low pulsing buzz against her chest, and that set off a screaming throbbing pain in her left shoulder. She groaned and tried to move, but something was holding her down. Her eyes popped open and she groaned, this time from embarrassment and anger.

"Mornin' to you too." He said, and she wanted to wipe the smug look off his face.

"Oh GOD!" She moaned, and then hissed in pain as he let go of her waist and she rolled onto her back. Curiosity got the better of her and she glanced over, trying to identify the source of the noise that woke her up. He was adjusting his watch on his wrist. "What is that?"

"My alarm; I don't do high pitched noises first thing in the morning – it's a good way to put me in a bad mood right off the bat." That actually made sense. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, five-thirty in the morning.

"Why are you getting up so early?"

"I figured you'd need pain medication, someone has to fix breakfast, and I need to be at the site by seven." She just shook her head. It went against everything she'd ever heard or read about him – he kept to a schedule. She heard him chuckle as he rolled onto his side to look at her.

"Are we past the – 'oh shit what the hell did I do last night' phase?" He asked.

"No, I'm just NOT thinking about it." She muttered. "Pain is all I'm thinking about right now."

"I have your medication – if you promise not to take the whole bottle I'll give them to you."

She gave him a sour look. "You aren't worth getting suicidal over."

He paused, and then barked out a rough laugh and handed her the bottle from the nightstand on his side of the bed. She looked at the label. 'Take two every four hours for pain' and he'd only given her one last night.

She glared at him, and he shrugged. "I needed you awake and aware so we could deal with some shit."

She thought about it, the single pill had worked last night, and she hadn't passed out. She struggled with the bottle, and he took it and opened it. He gave her a questioning look and she held up one finger. He grinned and handed her a single pill.

There was a glass of water on her nightstand. He must have given her one in the night, she just didn't remember. She gulped down the pill and leaned back on her pillows. The throbbing ache in her shoulder held most of her attention, she didn't notice him climb out of bed and pull on his pants. Suddenly he was in front of her, on her side of the bed.

"I need to go down to the truck, get my bag, I have a change of clothes down there. I hope there's room in your closet, I have three suitcases at the hotel." He grinned. "Sit up and let me check the dressing."

She glared at him. Nothing was settled yet, and he was acting like he owned the place, like he owned her. "Dana, I need to check the dressing, if the artificial skin is set, you can go get a hot shower, if not, you will have to make due with sponge baths again."

She grudgingly sat up. So far he'd done everything in his power to take care of her – of them, and without any of his reputed contempt. He pulled the tape back on the white bandage and looked underneath. He gently pulled the rest of the tape off and smiled.

"You get a shower this morning. Skin's set, and you shouldn't need a bandage. If it starts seeping blood from underneath, call me."

"Call you?"

"I'm not leaving until you are through in the shower. Avery is bringing Les and Gwyn over today, with your car, and he and I are going to the site together." He was being cool and professional, not something she usually associated with him, but her experience with him was rather limited to one day and night eleven years ago, and a bitter phone relationship over their daughter. The last few days had her off her guard with him – to say the least.

"Why are Les and Gwyn coming here?" She slipped her feet from under the covers and reached to grab her bathrobe from the hook near the bed. He grabbed it for her and helped her adjust it around her, his hands gentle – but impersonal. He was confusing her this morning, and confusion wasn't a good thing.

"Avery and I agree on one thing. This was deliberate – and aimed at something and someone in particular." He looked at her, and she felt a chill go down her spine, had Avery said something.

"Me?"

"One of the women in your department, yes." He said.

"What?"

"The sniper was only taking shots at slight figures, and almost all of them were women, wearing your department's coveralls. Avery wants you and Les together with the girls in case of an emergency while we are gone, and I agree with him. I want your gun with you at all times, just to be on the safe side. I am going back to the site today; see if I can pinpoint where the epicenter of the blast was, and what explosives were used."

"We need to look for survivors."

"Dana, I went over it last night, before going to the hospital to check on you. There is NOTHING alive under that rubble – not when I left last night. We are down to investigation and recovery, there is no more rescue." She was stunned – and then she noticed him. His body was tense, his hands clenched, and he was staring at a point over her head.

"Are you alright?"

"I may be a monster, Dana, and I don't deny it, but even I have been affected by this – I've NEVER seen anything like this before – outside of a war zone, and not with this many civilian casualties. I like my killing one on one, this is a frail cowardly way to kill and it pisses me off."

She did something she never thought she'd do; she slipped her good arm around his waist and rested her head on his chest, just listening to his heartbeat. She felt his arms slip around her, and his cheek lean against the top of her head. He didn't say a word, but his hands stroked her back through the robe. She didn't know how long they stood there, but he finally broke it.

"Go get your shower, I'll get breakfast going." He said. She just nodded and gathered her clothes for the day to take with her to the bathroom. She turned on the water and hung her robe on the hook by the shower curtain. She was rinsing her hair, forcing herself to start making the left arm move so she didn't lose any of her mobility when she heard the door open.

"I'm fine, Victor, I have it under control." She said lightly, through her gritted teeth. The pain was bad, but she'd get through it. She didn't have a choice.

"It's me, Mom." Nat said softly.

"What are you doing up?" She said.

"I wanted to talk to you and I heard the water running."

"What is it?"

"Is HE staying?" The emphasis left no doubt about who she was talking about. Dana almost grinned, and then thought about it. She couldn't send him away, not now – not with everything going on. If this sniper was after her – or just the women in her department, he was their best chance – hers and Nat's – for survival. After that, she didn't want to think about, but for now.

"Yes he's staying." She said.

"He yells at me."

"He's your FATHER!" She said sharply.

"He's not been here – he doesn't know how we do things." Nat said.

"Then he's going to have to learn – we all are." Dana said.

"Is he always that mean?" Dana didn't know how to answer that question. She'd actually been pleased with his restraint with Nat – pleased at how gently he had treated the girl, and Nat thought that was mean?

"Honey, you are just going to have to adjust. I'm not going to explain everything to you – not now. All you need to know is there is some danger, and he's here to protect us and take care of us."

"You trust him to do that?" She wondered where her little girl had gone, she was sounding way too grown up at the moment.

"Yes, I do." She reached over to shut off the water and grabbed a towel to wrap around herself. She pulled back the curtain to look at Natalie.

"MOM! That's not – that's a bullet hole." She said, pointing to Dana's shoulder.

"Yes, it is. I was shot yesterday at the site." She tried not to lie to her daughter, sometimes she didn't tell her everything – but she didn't lie. She watched Nat's face as she absorbed the information.

"Maybe it's a good thing Dad is here – if he's that mean with me, he'll be even worse if he finds out who did that." Dana chuckled at her daughter's observation. She was right. "But where's he sleeping, the bed in the guest room wasn't slept in last night?" Nat asked accusingly.

Dana just looked at her. She wasn't ready to deal with this yet either.

"Breakfast." He said from outside the door, saving her from having to explain – for now.

"Go get something to eat and let me get dressed, kiddo." She said.

"Okay." Nat grumbled but opened the door and glared at her father as she passed him in the hall.

"I like you in a towel." He grinned. "Need any help?"

"Yeah – actually." She hated asking for it, but she didn't think she'd be able to get dressed by herself. He helped her fasten her bra, easing the strap over the wound, helped her fasten her jeans and pull the shirt over her head.

"Have Les help you today if you need it." He said softly, and she was amazed again by his care and concern. It just didn't fit his profile. Either he was trying really hard with her and Nat – for whatever reasons of his own – or…she didn't even want to think about that or.

"I will, I need to get back to work." She said finally.

"Dana – I want you away from that place until we find out what's going on. We haven't told the press about the sniper yet, but it won't be long until they find out."

"Victor, I'm not giving up my job. I'm not afraid, and I'm one of the senior detectives left alive, this investigation is going to fall to me."

"I know – that's an ugly fault, not being afraid when you should be."

She just glared at him and headed for the stairs. He stayed behind her to make sure she didn't fall and he helped her get settled into one of the chairs in the living room. She clicked on the television – but turned it right back off as images of the scene filled the screen.

"Not ready to deal with it yet?" He asked.

"No."

"Wait until Les is here; I don't want you and Nat alone with only that for company." He glared at the TV. She just nodded.

She finally looked at him. He'd managed to change clothes; he was wearing jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt, and he had his long hair pulled back and tied up out of the way. She bit her lip to keep from smiling, he looked good. Then it hit her – she'd SLEPT with him last night. Not just sleep – but they'd had sex. She groaned. She'd promised herself she wasn't going to let it happen – she wasn't going to let him into their lives and there he was – standing in her living room, after sleeping in her bed, arguing with their daughter about breakfast.

"I DON'T like my waffles that way." Nat was snapping at him

"I don't care – go eat." He snapped back.

"It's not how MOM does things." She said.

"Natalie – go eat your breakfast – and don't talk to your father like that." She heard the words coming out of her mouth, but couldn't believe she was saying them – defending HIM. He gave her an amused look, and just shook his head.

"Looks like I'm making progress." He said smugly.

"I won't let her talk to ANY adult like that, don't take it personally." She snapped.

"Nope – you can't get out of it that easily." He grinned. He ducked back into the kitchen and brought her a plate of waffles and bacon with syrup. She knew why Nat was complaining, they both preferred preserves on their waffles – but Dana wasn't looking the gift horse in the mouth this morning.

"Thank you." She said. He glanced at her, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm waiting for the but." He said.

"No but – just thank you; I really do appreciate what you are doing." He grabbed his chest and staggered.

"I think the world's ending." He said with a laugh.

"Cute, now I know where she gets the theatrics." He just grinned and sat down on the couch.

"Seriously, we have some things to discuss before I leave." He was all cold and professional again.

"Why does that sound like you issuing more orders?" He glared.

"Dana, I don't have time to deal with some things right now, but there are a few that we need to discuss – and I want your input." He said.

"OH my GOD the world IS coming to an end." She said, and he glared. She stuffed a bite of waffles in her mouth to keep from laughing. "Fine." She said when her mouth was clear again.

"I don't want you or Nat out of the house today. If you leave for ANY reason – make sure you have your vest on, I laid it out on our bed." He just couldn't help getting his digs in. "Les and Gwyn will be here until we get back tonight, so if you need anything send her, and Avery's making sure she has a vest. Cells and land lines are still out, they think the blast knocked out several major trunks in the phone network, and the cells just don't have the bandwidth to cover the increased traffic, so we are leaving a radio so you know what's going on, and can get a hold of us in case of an emergency."

She nodded – so far he was being practical, and not too overbearing.

"I'm going to stop by my hotel, check out and get the rest of my things on the way home this evening."

"Victor." She snapped.

"I'm not arguing with you, Dana. I told you exactly what's going to happen; it's time you learned to accept it." His snarl was back. "I will put up with a whole lot of shit from both of you – I'm figuring that out – but there are some things I won't bend on, and this is one of them. I'm staying – and that's final."

She'd never heard of or seen him this calm. It was disarming to say the least. She was used to him snapping – yelling even, but not this.

"You know you don't have to put up with ANYTHING – out of either one of us." She snapped back. His condescending attitude was getting on her nerves.

"Woman – we don't have time to deal with this right now, until this crisis is over, I'm HERE! GOT IT!" He actually bit back the roar, but Nat came running anyway.

"Fine – until the crisis is over, I accept." She snapped.

"Mom – Dad, what's going on?"

"We are just discussing the terms of your father staying here, go back to the kitchen and eat."

"I can hear you anyway." She muttered and turned to go back to the kitchen.

"There is no discussion – no terms." Even she could see the anger radiating off of him. He wasn't going to move, not on this subject.

"Last night can't happen again." She said.

"As I said – we are getting married, Dana, I am not fucking sleeping in the fucking guest room."

"We are NOT getting married."

"You are NOT listening."

"NO YOU are not LISTENING." She shouted back at him. She was getting very tired of this argument very quickly.

"You don't have a choice, Dana. Either we do this my way, which will cause the least disruption, or I fight you – and I will. I will drag this through the courts and if that doesn't work – you'll never sleep again, because you won't know when I'll show up. She's my daughter – both of you belong to ME, and it's time you both realized it."

She couldn't believe he was threatening her – and then she thought about it, what did she honestly expect from him?

"I don't to threats, Victor, you know that."

"It's not a threat, Dana." He just glared at her, sitting calmly on her couch in her living room, and she felt a chill run down her spine. "Besides – it's not like you'll be able to resist – you didn't last night."

"I was on drugs last night."

"Yeah – drugs I intentionally cut the dosage of so you'd be able to respond to me. I'm not an idiot, Dana, and I always get what I want." She was starting to remember exactly why she hated him, arrogant egotistical asshole that he was.

"I can be really easy to get along with, Dana, and I'm not as inflexible as your little file says I am. Yeah – I found it last night, after you went to sleep. I've let you run things; given you enough rope to hang yourself with, and now the noose is tightening down. Nat is NOT going to hide what she is; YOU are not going to fill her head with nonsense about mutants and mutancy as something wrong with her. She's going to get to know me – and her own abilities, with me to guide her. You can fight me on this if you want, you know I love a good fight, but we both know who's going to win."

"How long have you been planning this?" She asked.

"What? Coming in here – getting things under control, getting you frails protected and safe - a while. Since the fight about the retainer, to be honest; that's one thing you can't say, that I'm dishonest; a killer – yeah, unstable sometimes – okay, but not dishonest."

"Did you blow up the station?"

"NO! Damn it I told you – I do my killing one on one, bombs and shit like that are the coward's way, and whatever names you might call me, coward isn't one of them." He snarled. The doorbell interrupted them and he slowly got up off the couch.

She saw the gun in the small of his back as he made his way to the door. Another chill ran down her spine. What the hell was she thinking – she needed to get him out of here, away from her and Nat as quickly as possible? Instead – she was trying to decide what to move to the guest room closet so he'd have room in the master bedroom closet. What was wrong with her?

He walked back into the room and she suddenly realized exactly what it was. He made her feel safe, even with his temper, everything she knew about him – she knew he'd protect her and Nat, maybe more than they wanted to be protected. She wasn't safe around him – at least not emotionally. He drove her insane, he pushed all the buttons that made her tense up to fight – and he knew exactly when and how to turn that into something else – something she'd tried to live without her entire life. He'd broken her down eleven years ago, and he was right, she hadn't even looked at another man since, and his touch was the only thing that made her feel alive – his touch and the child he'd given her all those years ago.

She saw Les and Gwyn behind him and pointed to the kitchen. Les just glared at his back and nodded.

"I don't think she likes me very much." He said.

"No – she doesn't." She looked at him as he picked up his jacket, and clipped his badge onto his belt. "Before you go there are a few things I need to tell you – show you."

"What?"

"You are right about Nat. I don't know how to deal with her mutation, you do. That could be handled through visitation, but you are right about the station – and the sniper, and everything else."

"What? Say that again, I'm what?" She wanted to smack him, but she needed to get this done.

She stood up and walked to the fireplace in the living room. She pulled out the loose brick on the mantle and handed him the stack of letters she'd been hiding there for over a year.

"The threats started a year ago."

"DANA!" He picked up each letter, encased in a plastic bag to preserve any evidence on them. "These are just personal threats, nothing against the department."

"I know, but the last few started threatening Nat."

He snarled.

"Why didn't you report this?"

"Because three of them were left, on my desk, in the middle of shift, with the whole department there, I thought it was someone on the force."

Avery walked in and saw them standing there, the letters in Victor's hands. She sent a silent plea to her partner to back her up.

"I see you finally told him." Avery said.

"This is why you've been keeping them close – and YOU didn't TELL ME!" Victor turned on him.

"She made me promise not to tell anyone, and we both thought it was something personal against her as a cop, and you wanted to know about Nat – about Dana's personal life and lack there of, not about her work."

"FUCK!" She could tell he was furious. He let out a low growl and stalked her across the room until her back was against the fireplace and he was just inches from her. "I should just kill you and take Nat and forget this whole mess." He whispered.

"But you won't." She whispered back, looking into his eyes. "You've had ample opportunity to do just that, over the last eleven years. I'm still alive; you aren't going to kill me Victor."

He glared at her, but something in his eyes softened, and he leaned down, one hand snaking behind her crushing her against him as he captured her mouth. She moaned against him, remembering his hands last night, the feel of him, his strength.

"We'll finish this later." He snarled, and turned, glaring at Avery and stormed out the door. Avery just shrugged and followed him.

XXXXXXX

Furious didn't cover it. Someone had been threatening his WOMAN – his CUB and he didn't know about it. He glared at his snitch.

"I couldn't tell you, not without revealing myself, and YOU didn't want me to do that." Avery said, in his own defense as they climbed into Victor's truck.

"That's the only thing saving your ass at the moment." He snarled.

"So how did she take the marriage proposal?"

"Proposal – I told her what's happening, I'm not ASKING her anything." He glared at the other man.

"You MIGHT try that. It might go further."

He growled low, and Avery shut up. He drove back to the site, but didn't get out of the truck right away. Avery didn't seem to be in a big rush either.

"This is bad." Victor said finally.

"Yeah."

"Any idea where we are workin' today?"

"Nope they were going to regrid last night, after they got the dogs in."

"Right."

"Right."

They both looked at each other and opened their doors simultaneously. Victor had been up front with Dana, he liked his killing face to face and one on one, this whole thing stank, and now added were the threats against his woman. He was ready to kill something, instead he had to go in there and play nice cop and try to find more dead bodies. Sometimes he hated this deal.

They walked to the command center, set up in a borrowed trailer from a construction company.

"Creed, Grayson – how's Wallis?"

"Home resting, my wife's there, helping her." Avery said.

"Good – I'm going to need her here tomorrow – you were right Creed, there's nothing alive left in there, and we need to get down to the investigation. Today is recovery of as many bodies as we can, I need Wallis here. She's the best I've got – and the most senior under me, as acting Chief, I'm giving her this case. We go into full investigation when she gets here in the morning. You and Creed here will back her up, unless the feds pull you." Jackson directed the last to Victor.

"Trust me – they won't." He snarled.

"I know your reputation, Creed. I'm not happy about having to rely on someone like you for this."

"Like me – you mean mutant?"

"I mean unstable and homicidal. I want whomever did this – and I want them ALIVE. I want a trial, and a conviction, and I want every one of these officers' families to be able to look that son of a bitch in the face and KNOW he's paying for what he did."

"I couldn't agree more. I gave up the 'old way' of doing things when I took this badge, Jackson. I hate the fucking paperwork, I hate the fucking bureaucracy, but I do my fucking JOB!"

"One more thing – some of us haven't forgotten eleven years ago – and the near assault on Wallis in the interrogation room. I was there, Creed. I remember what you told her, what you said you'd do to her if you ever got her alone. Don't make good on that."

Victor laughed in his face. "You can't threaten me, Jackson." He just turned and walked out of the trailer – he turned back catching the door behind Avery. "Have you ever seen her kid? Sweet kid, Nat – looks just like her old man." He turned and walked into the rubble as Jackson sputtered behind him.

He was good and pissed now – at Jackson, at the bureaucratic nightmare that was modern law enforcement, at whoever was trying to hurt his woman and cub, he could face this mess – at least he thought so. He was pulling a cover all over his jeans when Avery gave him the grid map. FUCK! They had the secondary site – the building that had the day care and tutoring center in it. He'd tried to avoid that place yesterday, something about those small broken bodies broke something inside him – shattered it into a thousand pieces, and he didn't want to dig too deeply into what it had revealed.

"Let's do this." He said to Avery. The other man just nodded.

They settled into a routine. He'd find where a body was hidden by the rubble, and they'd get their team to dig. He was having a problem, and he didn't want anyone to know. Every time they pulled someone out of there – especially a small someone, it had Nat's face, in his mind. He kept pushing it back, but each time they found another child – he had to clear his head again.

"Victor – let's take a break. I can't take much more." Avery said finally.

"We need to keep going." He muttered. He had the routine – if he broke it, he didn't know how he'd get back to it. This frail shit was driving him insane. He didn't understand, didn't want to understand why he was doing this. Then they found it – her dark hair matted with blood and as they turned her over in the rubble he thought for a second she had Dana's face.

"You're right – I need a break." He turned, and after a furtive look around him ducked behind some of the rubble to relieve the ache in his gut. He'd been through rough situations – seen dead bodies pile up – but nothing had ever hit him this hard – or this personally. He was wiping the bile from his mouth when Avery found him.

"Glad I'm not the only one." He said quietly. "Been seeing Les and Gwyn all day."

"Really?" He asked.

"Yeah – I have that problem, on some cases, especially if the victim is physically like them, I usually call to make sure they are okay, but today that's not an option."

"They have a radio."

"I know – but these other guys can't and its not fair to them."

"Is this normal?"

"What."

"Seeing them like that."

"Have you been…"

"Seeing Dana and Nat, yeah."

"Usually only if you care about them, Vic." He snarled. He didn't need any more frail shit, not right now.

"You care about Les and Gwyn – right?"

"They are my life, Vic, you know that. The only reason I let you help me was so I could be with them, the only reason I agreed to any of this was for them." Victor nodded.

"We need to get back to this."

"Victor – take a break. I've dealt with things like this before; you really look like you could use a break."

"NO! I ain't frail – I can do THIS!" He snarled and turned to go back to work.

"It isn't frail." Avery said quietly. "Les and Gwyn – they give me strength, knowing I take care of them, keep them safe, and protect them from – well people like you, it's what keeps me going."

"People like me?"

"You know what I mean – you aren't exactly the most docile of men." Avery said with a smile. Victor barked a laugh and followed him back to where the rest of the team was waiting.

"Yeah – I know what you mean. Not frail, huh?"

"Nope, and when I get home, I'm hugging my daughter and listening to every word she says, no matter how inane, simply because she's safe and alive, and I'm making love to my wife tonight – for the same damned reason." Avery said fiercely.

He watched the human go back to the team, watched his shoulders hunch as he dug in and started looking for more bodies. Damn – but the frail human was right. The thought of Dana and Nat safe at home did give him a burst of strength, and he picked his way over the rubble and joined them. They had bodies to get out of here – so that parents who weren't as lucky as they were could at least know where their child was.

They broke for lunch, another team coming in to take over and he and Avery went back to the command center.

"Creed, I need you to take this info to Wallis. She can't be HERE working – but I need her to start looking over what we do have." Jackson said, "And good work out there. I spoke in haste and anger earlier; you're a good man to have right now."

He took the large envelope and looked at the information on the table.

"What's that?"

"The blueprints, we are trying to figure out where the blast centered."

He glanced at the prints – and the circles they'd drawn – that's when it hit him – there hadn't been one blast but three.

"None of those singly would do it, but if the blasts were centered here – here – and here" he pointed at three locations on the blueprints, "then it would account for all of this."

"Three blasts?"

"Yeah – what were those rooms?"

"The file room and the evidence room, but why the basement?"

"Gas line – to hide the evidence of the bombs."

Jackson glared at him. "How would you know that?"

"Had some friends – a long time ago – that liked to play with explosives, me – I always thought they were the coward's way."

"Heard that about you, but I think you are right; tell Wallis this theory too." Jackson said, dismissing him.

Avery was sitting down outside, a brown bag in his lap.

"Come on – we get to go get a hot lunch." Victor said.

"What?"

"Errand boy – taking files to Dana."

"Ahhh – nice." Avery grinned and followed him to the truck.

He stopped at his hotel and packed quickly and checked out, and then drove straight home. That word felt strange in his head, all warm and fuzzy and frail and he didn't like it one bit – until he pulled into the driveway, and a sudden feeling of peace hit him – he was home.

He was chuckling as he grabbed his bags from the bed of the truck. Avery just looked at him strangely and went inside.

Les was in the living room straightening up from some kind of mess the girls had made, Victor could hear Dana and the two girls in the kitchen, so he walked straight in there. Nat was sitting at the island watching her mother trying to cook one handed.

"See – I told you I could handle lunch." Dana was saying as he walked in.

"MOM! It's only grilled cheese." Nat said grinning.

"Hey Trooper." He said, and she glanced at him. He didn't think, he just put an arm around her and pulled her tight against his side. Gwyn jumped up and ran to the living room to see her father.

"Dad – you're crushing me."

"No I'm not. Hey got one of those for me?" He grinned at Dana.

"Not until you wash your hands." She said.

"Have some files for you, from Jackson. He's putting you in charge of the investigation." He said as he washed his hands in the sink. Nat kept giving him strange looks, and he grinned at her. Dana single handedly dumped two sandwiches onto a plate for him. He slipped up behind her and put his arms around her, and kissed her on the back of the neck.

"Quit that." She snapped.

"Nope – you frails need to learn whose boss." He grinned as he grabbed the plate. Dana swatted his hand with the spatula and he just grinned.

"Hrmm – giving me ideas for later." He leered at her. He could see and smell their confusion, but he didn't care. They were safe and alive, not lying under that rubble somewhere, and all was right with his world at the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He left after lunch, leaving both of them in a state of confusion. Dana sent Nat and Gwyn upstairs to play while she tried to make sense of the whole thing.

She was sitting in the living room when Les walked in.

"I'm going to the store – I imagine we will be eating dinner here, and your pantry's a little bare."

"Here, let me give you some money, and Avery will be pissed if I let you go out without a vest."

"I've got it on; he badgered me all morning until I agreed to wear his light one." Dana nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"About what, being shot, this pile of stuff Jackson sent, the HUGE problem that keeps walking in my front door like he owns the place, my confused ten year old daughter, or my mother who will be here this afternoon?" She started ticking off the problems on her mind on her fingers – giving a whole hand to the HUGE issue. Leslie laughed.

"I was talking about dinner."

"Oh. I don't know whatever is fine with me."

"Alright. I'll be back in a bit – and try to keep your mother off your ass."

"Thanks." Dana grinned.

She kept trying to concentrate on the information Jackson had sent over, but every time she tried, Victor kept popping into her mind. She knew she needed to deal with it – make a decision, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this confused, no wait yes she could – and he'd been the cause THEN too.

She just didn't know him well enough to know if this was an act he was putting on to get her to trust him – or if this was just HIM, and she'd never seen these parts. There were parts of what she was seeing that she could easily come to count on – rely on, in a very long term, very permanent kind of way. He'd been amazingly calm with Nat, firm but calm, without blowing up or treating her less than human, like Dana had expected. She still didn't know what had happened between them last night, but Nat was definitely having second thoughts about her father, something Dana was taking as a good sign.

He was working – the badge wasn't just a front for him to do what he wanted. She'd done some checking this morning. They were trying to give him a commendation out of the Denver office for his work on a serial rapist case. You don't give commendations to someone who's not doing the job. His partner from Denver raved about him, how great he'd been to work with, surprisingly because of his background. He had three line of duty deaths to his record, two less than Dana had, and all of them had been witnessed and he'd been cleared of any wrongdoing on each and every count.

She was stunned at how much he'd changed – if he'd really changed, and wasn't putting on some kind of long term act for his own purposes, but nothing she'd ever been able to dig up about him indicated he had that kind of patience – or acting ability.

Then there was the whole issue with her mother feeding him information. She was still furious about that one. She was feeling a little conspired against, first her mother, then Avery, then Nat all reporting to him, it was as if she had every option taken away from her before she was ever given a choice.

Which brought her to the final issue that was driving her insane; he didn't ask, he ordered. He didn't suggest, he ordered. He didn't seem to know the meaning of compromise or cooperation, and she didn't know if she could deal with that – with the constant fighting for any portion of her own identity with him. She wasn't going to argue the physical attraction between them, it would be stupid. She couldn't argue that she trusted him – instinctively, with their physical safety, but she wasn't someone who could just sit back and let him drive the bus. She had to have some say – some right to her own thoughts, her own soul, and he acted like he wanted to own all of it.

She'd fought too hard and too long to get where she was to allow him to just come in and take it all away from her. He had valid points about several things, about Nat and her mutation, about keeping them safe, about them needing him. The last few days – even with everything that had happened she'd been more complete, more whole than in her entire life, and it was entirely due to his presence.

This morning had been strange – but nice, almost normal, having him there when she woke up, she still wasn't having the absolute horror at what they'd done last night, not like she'd expected to have. She knew it wasn't the pain medication either, she'd been keeping that dosage low, so she could think this through.

She was sitting there, staring off into space, her mind whirling, when a small noise from the door made her look up.

"Mom?"

"Hey – what is it?"

"What's the deal with Dad?" Nat walked over and curled up against her good side on the arm of the chair.

"What do you mean?"

"You never told me where he slept last night, and now, at lunch all that stuff at the stove it's like – I don't know, you guys are dating or something." She could see the confusion in her daughter's face.

"We kind of are – I guess. Your father wants me to marry him."

"WHAT!?" This came from the doorway of the living room. Her mother was standing there.

"Yes, Mom."

"EWWWWWW He slept with YOU last night, THAT'S GROSS!" Nat groaned.

"I have to agree with my grand-daughter. That's gross." Judy said as she walked into the room.

"Mom – you are not helping. And Nat – get used to it, I don't think he's going anywhere anytime soon."

"Don't think."

"Well he did tell me I'm going to marry him."

"He proposed?"

"Not exactly, it was more along the lines of 'When this mess settles down we are getting married, that's final.'"

"He always did strike me as dictatorial." Her mother said as she sat down. "And you slept with him – again."

"Mother – I'm not in the mood. Yes I slept with him – again, and will probably do so again."

"You really want your daughter hearing this?"

"Natalie – your father and I have things to work out, but he's not going anywhere, so live with it." She shot her mother a fake smile as her daughter groaned in her ear.

"Why are you letting him do this?"

"Honestly mother – I don't know. Half the time he makes me crazy, the other half he makes me insane, and that's on a good day. It was so strange; he came in at lunch, after being down at the site, and really was like he belonged here – he was relaxed, happy – as I said, STRANGE!"

"Just don't let him do anything to hurt you or Nat."

"From you – traitor – that's rich."

"Traitor."

"You've been feeding him information for years."

"Well – I thought he needed to know about Nat – to spend time with her – yes. I never imagined he'd try to MOVE in."

"Mom don't do this because of me – because I called him, don't – I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"Hurt?"

"He's BIG – a lot bigger than I thought – I mean Rachel's Dad is big, and he accidentally broke her mom's ribs wrestling."

"Really?" Dana deadpanned – she knew the exact details of that particular drunken brawl at Rachel's house.

"I mean – Dad could crush you in your sleep – and he's HAIRY! I saw him without his shirt – all that hair EEWWWWW!"

Dana started laughing – she couldn't help it. She wasn't looking forward to when her little girl realized that all that hair could be a good thing – she glanced at her mother who was chuckling.

"Baby – I am so glad you think so, but I think you'll change your mind in a few years, at least about men and hair." The two older women laughed at the confused look on the little girl's face.

"You guys are gross." Nat said and got up to leave.

"I thought I might take Nat to my house tonight. I can take her to school. You are going to be busy with the site – and, evidently, Victor Creed." Her mother said.

Dana considered the offer – in light of everything, and nodded. Not having Nat around might make talking to Victor easier – or not.

"Go pack a bag – and make sure your homework is in it. No staying up late, no TV after eight, and MOM, no sweets before bed." She glared at her mother.

"I'm a grandma – give me a break." Her mother said as she went upstairs with her daughter to help Nat pack.

"MOTHER! Are you staying for diner, Leslie went to the store?"

"Of COURSE! I hate to cook." Judy shouted down the stairs. Dana groaned – she just hoped that Avery and Victor would be home at a decent hour.

XXXXXXXXX

He was exhausted – not just physically, his mutation could compensate for almost anything that this mess could throw at him. It was something else that was draining his energy, something that was making him frail. He didn't like it, not one bit.

Avery signaled him to head for the command center, and he just nodded. They'd moved past the secondary building this afternoon and were back inside the station perimeter. Jackson had them on investigation, and they'd managed to dig up a few things.

They opened the command center door to find Jackson sitting at his desk with his head in his hands.

"Tell me you found SOMETHING I can tell the mayor and the Governor." He moaned.

"Well – it wasn't an inside job." Victor said. "The explosives were military grade, hard to come by. Whoever did this wanted it to look like an accident, they deliberately uncapped the gas line in the basement, and that is where the bulk of the blast came from. The secondary explosions were for localized destruction, in those particular rooms."

"And you got all that from your nose?"

"No – intuition and evidence." He handed the clipboard he'd been carrying all afternoon over to the acting Chief.

"Good work, Creed. Make a copy for Wallis." Victor glared but walked to the copier. He didn't like the idea of Dana being involved in this investigation – not after seeing those letters this morning. "You two head home, drop those off for Wallis and get some rest." Jackson said. He and Avery weren't going to argue. As soon as his notes were ready they headed for his truck.

"I'm going to drop you off; I have some errands to run." Victor said.

"Okay – you sure you don't want to get something to eat first."

"No. Go ahead and take Leslie and Gwyn home. Dana and Nat will be fine for a little bit, I won't be long." Both men were quiet for the rest of the drive; He pulled up outside the house and dropped Avery off. He needed some space – some time to think some things out.

XXXXXXXXX

"DAD!" Gwyn threw her arms around Avery. Dana held her breath, waiting on Victor, but he didn't come in the door.

Avery saw her. "He had some errands to run, said he'd be here after he was done. These are for you." She just nodded as he handed her a pile of paperwork.

During the hectic rush to get six people fed and five of them out the door, she didn't miss him at all, barely noticed he wasn't there. Avery and his family left first, and she understood they needed time together. Her mother and Nat left not long after, and the house was almost eerily quiet.

She took the time to start looking over all the notes from the site, and making notes of her own. She didn't know how long she sat there; going over the file, but the phone ringing startled her. She looked up at the clock as she answered it.

"Mom – Grandma said to call and tell you I'm going to bed." Nat deadpanned. Dana chuckled.

"Good night – get some sleep, did you get your homework done?"

"Yes Mom."

"Did you get your bath?"

"Yes Mom."

"Then go to bed."

"Is Dad there yet?"

"Not yet."

"Okay I was going to say good night, but…"

"Nat, go to bed. I love you."

"Yes Mom, love you too."

Dana hung up the phone and stood up to stretch. She started turning off lights and locking the house up for the night. She gathered up her papers and took them upstairs to her room. She wasn't going to worry about HIM, of all people.

She gathered up her sleepwear, turned on the faucet in the bathroom to fill the tub, and glanced into Natalie's room. She picked up the few toys that were scattered on the floor and spread up her bed. She brushed her fingers across the old stuffed tiger that she always used to sleep with, and was closing her door when she heard the sound of his key in the lock. She didn't know he HAD a key. She went back to the bathroom and turned off the water.

She started down the stairs as she heard him grumbling.

"Why's it dark?"

"Nat went over to my mother's tonight, Avery and Leslie left, I decided to go upstairs to work." She hoped she didn't sound as defensive as she felt.

"Oh – Nat's not home?" He sounded…strange.

"No."

"Good." He came into sight, carrying a large brown paper bag. "Go on to bed. I'll be up in a bit."

"Victor we need to talk."

"Dana – I'm going to be blunt, I'm tired – I have seen and dealt with things today that – I need to get shit faced drunk and pass out." She heard the chink of glass in the bag.

"You want ice with that?"

"What?"

"Whatever you are drinking?"

"Yeah – a glass with ice would be nice." He walked into the living room. She crossed into the kitchen and pulled down one of her good glasses from the cabinet. She filled it with ice, and went into the living room. He was sitting in one of the chairs, a bottle of scotch on the table next to him. She just handed him the glass.

"We still need to talk."

"Dana – the mood I'm in right now, you are going to hear things you DON'T want to hear." He opened the bottle and poured into the glass until it was nearly full, then downed the whole glass in one gulp.

"We need to work some things out, at least until this mess is over." She sat down on the couch.

"Have you taken your pain medication?"

"No, I didn't need it this afternoon, and I wanted to be clear headed."

"You should take your medication." He was downing his third glass.

"You are determined to get drunk." She said watching him in morbid fascination.

"It's been one of those days – and with my healing factor it takes quite a bit to get me there." He snarled at her.

"What's wrong?"

"I ain't in the mood for touchy feely frail crap – alright." He downed his fifth glass.

"Victor – we need to talk about some things and I'm not sure you being DRUNK is a good idea." She snapped back, she wasn't in the mood for his self destructive behavior, not where her daughter was concerned.

"Fine – you want to know what's wrong – I saw you – and Nat – every time we pulled a fucking body out of that mess today. I thought I was going NUTS, then Avery - and his damned frail emotional crap - had to tell me he saw Les and Gwyn, because he cared for them, because they were his fucking life…" He downed the last of the bottle in one swig.

"Victor – that's not a bad thing."

"Yes it is, I don't need a weakness, I don't need weapons that can be used against me, and you and Nat, that's what you are."

"Nat I can see – she's your daughter…"

"No – you still don't get it, it's been this way since the beginning – since that damned interrogation room – since you busted into my fucking hotel room and put me in cuffs and read me my rights."

"What?"

"You are the ONLY cop – the only fucking one to get to that point, to put together a good enough case to hold my ass, you are smart, damned good at your job, and the fact that you can give me a permanent hard on doesn't hurt."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Dana – You know quite a bit about me – about how I think. Your investigation wasn't far from the truth; I was here because of the murders – just not the one that did it. You pegged me, you had the damned guts to confront me, and hell you fucking CUFFED me, yourself."

"I still don't know what that has to do with today at the site."

"Jackson brought it up – what happened in the interrogation room. He called it a threat, what I said, it wasn't. I want you to know that. It was a compliment."

"You told me you were going to make me suck your dick."

"No – I said 'Next time we get a moment alone, why don't you suck my dick.'"

"Whatever."

"NO! Not whatever. It was a compliment, Dana. I don't trust frails – females anywhere near me with their teeth still in their mouths." She blinked a moment, as what he was trying to say sank in.

"You were telling me you trusted me."

"Yeah – still do."

"What?"

"I'd still let you…"

She laughed, and then stopped, remembering the night in the hotel, how she'd begged him to let her do just that.

"So – where does that leave us?"

"Dana – you are the only female I…well you aren't a frail in my book."

"What? I know that's what you mean when you talk about humans, particularly women."

"No – you don't get it – I don't, frails are weak, usually female, usually soft and easy to kill, easy to…get what I want."

"Rape."

"Yeah."

"You realize I'm still a cop."

"And everything up to three and a half years ago is pardoned."

"Okay – so anything after that…"

"There isn't anything after that; I've been a 'good boy' since then."

"I doubt that."

"You'll have to trust me."

"Not exactly something I'm quite ready to do fully."

"I know." He downed half the second bottle in three gulps.

"Victor – slow down."

"Nope."

She just shook her head and watched him drain another third of the bottle.

"Back to the frail thing…"

"You ain't a frail. YOU are a woman in my book."

"What's the difference?"

"I'd trust you with my back, with my cub, with my secrets and with my life."

"What?"

"I don't meet many people who deserve the titles of friend, partner, or mate. I have a few friends, real friends that I can trust into hell and back, I had a decent partner in Denver, but not a real one, and you – you are my mate."

"What do you mean – your mate?"

"You are the only female – the only woman in the whole damned world I'd have a cub with."

"You already did."

"I know."

"What?"

"Nat was an accident – but I don't regret it. I'd do it again, hell I'd like ta do it again."

"Whoa there – I am NOT having another child."

"Not yet." She glared at him.

"Victor…"

"Dana…" He glared at her across the darkened living room. She suddenly realized they were sitting there in the dark – and he could probably see her very clearly. "I'm not the monster I'm made out to be, yeah I've done some really crappy things in my life, who hasn't, but I've cleaned up my act."

"What does that have to do with the site – and the bottles?"

"I made a decision three and a half years ago – before the 'Fang Fight' that I needed to get my life together. At first, I honestly tried to get you the hell out of my blood. I couldn't do it. I ended up only picking up brunettes, and they just didn't smell right, didn't taste right, so even that quit. Not to inflate your ego – but until last night, I'd been living like a damned monk for about six years."

She just looked at him in disbelief.

"I was offered the deal – the pardon, everything – right AFTER you called the first time about the damned retainer. I was on the phone with you on the damned boat heading to Liberty Island. I was just a little pissed."

She chuckled, but let him talk.

"You were trying to hide what Nat was, and there I was, trying to make the world leaders understand the Mutant Cause, so when I was hauled in – after being shot at by some pretty boy with laser eyes, cut up by the damned Runt, falling through the damned boat and nearly drowning and having to fucking swim to shore – and it was on that long assed swim I made up my mind I was going to have some say with Nat, by the way – and they offered me the deal, I took it. Haven't regretted it either; well except the damned paperwork."

"Well that makes two of us."

He actually smiled at her. "I never realized just how fucking much paperwork is involved in law enforcement. If I had – I might have taken the damned CIA intelligence job they offered. I like it – parts of it – the job I mean. I can hunt, let my instincts work, and I'm not feeling like a pansy ass. I get to solve riddles and puzzles, and even get a crack at bustin' heads every now and then, just hate the damned paperwork."

He paused, and took another drink. She just waited. He obviously had something he had to say – something that wasn't easy and she wasn't going to make it any harder for him.

"I started then, working to find a way here. The deal was I had to stay away from you and Nat for two years, prove I was 'clean' before they'd let me near you. I think they were afraid I'd hurt you or something. I'd already made up my mind, but I had to play by the rules, and I think I've done a pretty good job of that."

"Made up your mind about what?"

"You and Nat – you're both mine; she's my cub, you are my mate. I get that you may need time to get with the program, but it's gonna happen. I guess what I'm saying – I ain't in a rush about the wedding thing, but I ain't leavin."

"What?" He was confusing her jumping from one thing to another.

"Dana, I don't do this frail shit well, okay." He opened the third bottle and downed it. "I'm…" He shook his head as even his metabolism had difficulty processing that much scotch in one gulp. "I…" He looked at her and reached for another bottle, then put it down.

He took a deep breath and she just sat there waiting. She had a sneaking suspicion of what he was trying to say, and a cold fist wrapped around her gut. She wasn't ready for this, ready to face her own feelings about him, and she knew he'd want an answer.

"Dana." He took another deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Ahhh FUCK! Iloveyouokay!" It all ran together, as if he was afraid someone else would hear him. She just sat there. He took another breath, and let it out. "I'm not expecting anything, I just – after today at the site, I thought you needed to know, this isn't just me being an ass."

She let out a sigh, unsure exactly how to respond to him. She didn't know how she felt. She knew she couldn't deny what he did to her physically. She instinctively trusted him to keep them safe, but did she dare trust him with her heart.

"Victor – we are definitely not on the same page here…" She started.

"I know that – I come in here, bulldoze over you and Nat and start issuing orders, and I know that probably wasn't the wisest course to take with you, but I don't expect you to…"

"Victor, I trust you, strange as that sounds, and yes I've done some digging and checking today while you were gone." He gave her a mock salute with the last bottle, and opened it. "I know you will keep Nat and I safe, that nothing and no one will hurt her while you are here. I also get that you aren't going anywhere. To be honest – I don't want you to leave. More than that, I'm just not ready to stretch my trust that far. Let's face it, other than one night eleven years ago – we haven't had much to do with each other."

"Yeah. I'm not backing down. I'm sayin, and I ain't sleepin' in the damned guest room. I won't lie to Nat like that, because we both know where I'd end up." She nodded.

"There's space in my closet, I had Les help me move my winter things to the guest room today."

"You did?"

"Yeah." He looked a little deflated, as if he'd puffed up for the fight.

"So – if you want to finish your binge – I'm going to go take a hot bath and try to relax. What time do I need to be at the site in the morning?"

"Jackson wants you there at eight; I told him I'm driving you because of the arm."

"I hope your healing factor covers hangovers."

"Dana – don't expect this, any of it on a regular basis."

"So in other words, you don't get shit faced on a regular basis."

"Not shit faced no." He chuckled.

"Good – not a good example for Nat." She headed up the stairs.

XXXXXXX

He sat there in the dark, listening to her moving around upstairs. He'd told her – damn it. His secret, the one thing that he'd fought himself over for eleven years, and it spilled out in a rush. He had to respect her honesty, and it had been an answer of sorts. He pulled the box out of his pocket. He'd 'borrowed' one of her rings to get the right size, and he was glad he hadn't gotten drunk enough to actually 'ask' her to marry him. She was going to, and he might actually do it – ask instead of order – but not tonight.

She'd surprised him with her quiet acceptance of his presence. He'd been expecting a fight. Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the situation, or maybe there was more there than limited trust, he didn't know, but whatever it was, his foot was in the door, hell his whole damned body was in the door and in her bed, which was far better than he'd planned on at this point.

Damn Avery for making him think about this shit today. He didn't do this frail shit. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. The cell network had still been down all day. He pulled it out, nine messages. He groaned, and punched the button to listen to them.

"Hoy, mate, where you been? It's Mort. Call me, have a job you might be interested in." He hit the save button. He wouldn't necessarily take the job, but Toad at least deserved a call back.

"Sabretooth, call me at once, it is imperative." He knew that tone, and the impatience in it. He deleted it. Magneto wasn't his boss anymore.

"Sabretooth, we need your assistance on a project…." He didn't even wait, he scrolled through the messages, three more of the eleven were also from the same number he just deleted them all. The Brotherhood didn't need him – or if they did, he didn't need them.

"Creed – Dillon here. Man, call me and tell me how the midwest is, I'm thinking about a transfer." He saved that one. Dillon had been a good partner, even with all the Gunsmoke jokes.

"Nick Fury, Creed. Have a nice cushy job you might be interested in, call me." He deleted it, just like he did all of Fury's messages. SHIELD wasn't his cup of tea.

"Nice woman – loved the bathing suit. Hope you liked my little surprise, Sabretooth. Keep a close watch on Detective Wallis, and better get your fuck soon, before she's just a memory too." The number was anonymous, he saved it. It had been sent while he was watching Dana at Avery's on Saturday morning.

FUCK – the bastard had called his cell phone, he'd been watching Dana during the explosion, so the devices had to be timed. He could hear Dana upstairs getting out of the bathtub. As much as he hated to drag work up there tonight – he'd gotten drunk enough to get the words out, but not drunk enough to think he could keep this from her, and still keep her trust.

Her trust was important to his plans. He needed her to trust him – because he needed to trust her. There were things she was going to need to know, about his past, things that would ignore a pardon, and some of those things could break her trust so easily. He stood up, his factor cleared his head quickly as he moved to the stairs.

"Dana?"

"I'm in the bedroom." She said. He liked how she said it, not her room, the room. Someday it would be their room, but not yet. He walked up the stairs and to the door. She was curled up in bed, the file spread out on the covers around her.

"And I was worried about bothering you with work?" He grinned.

"What is it?" He punched the button on his phone, and played the message.

"Was that…the bomber?"

"Yeah – and he knows who I am – who I was, and about us."

"He was watching us at Avery's? I saw a flash but couldn't see anything that caused it."

"That was probably me; he wasn't the only one watching."

"Letch."

"Completely, where you are concerned." He leered at her in her ribbed tank over the blankets gathered at her waist.

"Not tonight. I need to get this file organized before I get to the site tomorrow."

"Do you always work in bed?"

"Usually."

"You need a desk – the bed's not for workin." He reached out to yank the covers back.

"STOP! I just got this file organized."

"Then get it the hell off the bed, I'm tired." She grumbled, but gathered up the file, carefully placing things in order, and onto her nightstand. He ignored her as he stripped to his jeans. "I'm getting a bath myself. YOU need sleep, so I want that damned light out by the time I get back or…"

"Or what?"

"Or when I get back – I'll make sure you sleep again." He grinned at her and walked out the bedroom door. "AND I'm BUYING US A HOUSE WITH A DAMNED MASTER BATHROOM!" He shouted down the hall. "That closet of yours doesn't even come CLOSE!"

He heard her laugh, and saw the light click off under the door. She didn't know it, but he had plans for after his bath anyway, Nat wasn't there to hear her scream. He ran the water hot and moaned about the size of the tub.

"Yep I'm buying a real house with a real damned tub." He grumbled trying to fold his frame into the standard tub. It just wasn't working; he finally gave up, and turned on the shower. As soon as he got the chance he was moving them into someplace decent – someplace he could actually get a fucking bath. He ducked his head under the shower, but even the running water didn't stop him from picking up her light step in the bathroom. She was trying to sneak up on him. He grinned, and let her stand there in her indecision. He wasn't going to say no.

XXXXXXXX

She stood there trying to decide if she really wanted to test him, but their conversation earlier had put the idea in her mind, and she hadn't been able to think of much else since. The idea of him in her mouth had her body aching with need, a need she knew he'd meet.

"You comin' in or not." He said finally. "I want to hear you scream."

"Yeah." She slipped back the shower curtain and stepped into the tub. She watched him lean his head back to rinse the shampoo out and she wanted to run her hands over his chest.

"Victor."

"No games." He pulled her against his wet body and she moaned. The water was scalding hot, but it wasn't as hot as his skin under her fingers, pressed against her as he turned and pressed her to the stall wall.

"No games." She whispered, running her good hand up and around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He reached down and turned of the water, and then picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down in the middle of the bed, and covered her body with his. She moaned as he took her mouth with his.

"That's not what you want, is it?" He whispered.

She just shook her head.

He brushed along her body with his hands, making her moan with frustration again.

"What do you want, Dana?"

"You." She whispered, cursing him silently. He was going to make her beg again.

"Not good enough."

"You said no games."

"Dana – I'm always playing games." He licked the side of her throat as he slowly peeled his wet body off of hers. "I think the chair might be better for this, don't you?" She watched him glide across the floor, and settled into the chair he'd threatened her from less than a week ago. She didn't even think, just slipped off the bed, walked to him and dropped to her knees in front of him. She brushed her good hand against his thighs and he closed his eyes and relaxed, allowing her to settle herself between his knees.

She could see him, his head leaned back on the back of the chair, the expanse of his massive chest open to her eyes, his strong arms resting on the arms of the chair. She brushed her hand along his stomach, before leaning in to lick the length of him. She heard him moan, and then his hands were in her hair, pulling it down from the knot she'd put it in for her bath, letting it flow down over his legs as he combed his fingers through it.

"God woman, your hair is like silk." He whispered, his fingers stroking it. She smiled and leaned in to taste him again. "DANA – quit teasing, no games remember."

"I thought you liked games." She said, as she took him into her mouth. He groaned then, as she let the vibration of the last word play along the length of him as she took him as deep as her throat would allow.

"Never mind – play all the games you want, DAMN!" He muttered and she felt his fingers clench in her hair. She laughed, and he gasped. "I won't last long if you keep that up."

She reluctantly slipped him out of her mouth – the only down side, you couldn't hold a conversation with your mouth full. "Who said you had to last – with your healing factor, it's not that big of a deal anyway. You can take care of me later." She grinned up at him through the curtain of her hair and was rewarded by a pearl like bead which she licked away before taking him back into her mouth.

He had no idea what this did to her – having him like this. He'd said he didn't trust anyone with teeth, and it meant a great deal that he would trust her to give this to him. She'd been embarrassed eleven years ago, he had broken down all her defenses, all her boundaries except this one – and she'd begged him to let her, begged him to feel him in her mouth. Now, she knew how important it was to him – what it represented, and that increased her own pleasure as she felt him building under her lips and tongue.

"Dana – stop." He groaned. She could feel him right on the edge, and she moaned in frustration as he pulled her hair to stop her. "DANA!" He roared that moan had been enough, and she tasted him as he filled her mouth and throat. She looked up at him through her hair, his head thrown back, the cords of his neck standing out as his entire body tensed and then collapsed into the chair.

"I didn't want to do that, Baby." He whispered, raggedly.

"I wanted you to." She said, licking her lips to savor the last drops. He'd found her weakness, eleven years ago, by accident, and with his sense of smell he probably knew just how close she'd come to her own climax with him.

"Damn – I forgot just how good that feels." He moaned. He reached down and pulled her into his lap. "You really liked that? Most frails I know don't." He said.

"Well, I have to admit – yes, I do." She was blushing against his shoulder. She hadn't known – in that interrogation room just HOW much she would. At the time it had been an insult. After the hotel – it had been her guilty secret, that she had – and had really enjoyed it, and now, after hearing what it meant to him, she understood exactly how important that simple act was.

"Dana, I don't want…"

"Victor, don't. I like it, okay. You taught me that, eleven years ago, and I have to admit it has been one of my more common fantasies since."

"You fantasize about that – about me?"

"Yep." She looked up at him, his hair still wet from the shower, his skin damp from sweat and the shower, he looked relaxed, if a bit dazed.

"Damn." He whispered standing up and carrying her back to the bed. "Well – I can't leave you hangin, after that now can I?" He whispered, tracing his lips down her neck. She felt him hot against her stomach and knew his healing factor was working. She felt his fingers slide between her thighs, and moaned as he stroked her.

"You are beautiful, Dana." He whispered, brushing his lips against hers. She moaned again as he pulled her bottom lip between his and nipped gently. Her hips bucked under his hand and she felt his grin against her lips. "That's my girl."

He slid inside her, and she wanted to scream her frustration. He wasn't moving, just laying there, looking down at her. She tried to move her hips, tried to get him to move but he just grinned down at her, and then slowly, maddeningly, he moved. He set a slow torturous rhythm that had her nearly crying in frustration. Every time she tried to get him to speed up, he'd grin at her, and stop. Her body was nearing the breaking point but every time she reached it, he'd pull her back.

"Who do you belong to?" He whispered against her ear.

She couldn't stand it anymore, she wanted to scream, wanted to flail at him for this slow sweet torture. She glared at him, as well as she could while moaning as he moved inside her, and dug the fingernails of her good hand into his ass cheek.

"YOU – asshole!" She ground out. He laughed, and stopped moving again.

"Nice try, Dana." He grinned, and pulled out and thrust back in hard and fast, just the way she wanted. She swore she saw stars, and was almost to the point of joining them, but he stopped again.

"I want to hear it, who do you belong to?"

"Victor." She whispered, whimpering, wanting to beg him to quit playing games and just fuck her.

"Not good enough." He thrust deep and fast again, nearly sending her over, but it just wasn't enough.

"VICTOR!" she screamed, digging her fingernails into his flesh, even the nails of her injured hand, she didn't feel any pain as he kissed her, and finally set a demanding rhythm that sent her careening into the stars within a few seconds.

"Told ya, you were going to scream."

She just nodded – not caring at the moment. Her entire body felt boneless and all she wanted was to crawl inside him and stay forever. He ruined the moment by rolling off of her.

"Shit."

"What?"

"You're bleeding."

"What?"

"Your shoulder, we overdid it." He couldn't hide the smug grin on his face as he grabbed the first aid kit from the top of the chest.

She just laughed. "I think I'll live."

"It's a good thing you shouldn't be using that hand much tomorrow." He said as he re-bandaged the shoulder wound.

"I need to use it; I don't want to lose mobility." She said.

"You won't lose mobility I promise." He grinned.

"Oh really."

"Yeah – there should be plenty of paperwork tomorrow."

She groaned and waited for him to climb back into the bed and pull the covers over them. She rolled onto her good side and rested her head on his shoulder. She'd deal with tomorrow – tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He woke to the pulsing on his arm, but couldn't move it for some reason. He opened his eyes and started, before remembering where he was. He looked at her curled up on her side, her head resting on his shoulder. He still couldn't believe what he'd done last night. He made himself a silent vow to NEVER get shit faced around her again. He'd told her way more than he'd wanted to – way more than she needed to know.

He'd guarded his secrets, his past for too long, but he was letting his guard down around her, and that was dangerous. Then there was the cub, there were things he was going to have to tell her, he just didn't know how much – or when. This whole 'parent' thing was strange.

"Morning." She whispered.

"Morning, what do you want for breakfast?" He said with a smile, looking at the clock on the nightstand. They had a couple hours to get ready, and he was in no rush.

"I can fix it, you never did get unpacked last night." She started to stretch and he enjoyed the feel of her body along his side.

"Yeah – my bags are still in the truck. How's the arm?" He shifted his own so he could reach his wrist to turn off the alarm, and stole a glimpse down her naked body. He definitely could go for some 'quality time' this morning.

"Sore, ok painful, but I'll live." She winced as he brushed the shoulder, as she rolled away from him.

"Looks like the bleeding stopped." He reached to pull the bandage off.

"I can take care of that – why don't you get the first shower." She was brisk, reaching for the file on the nightstand.

"Dana?"

"What?"

"What is this?"

"What is what?"

"This?"

"I don't…" He glared at her. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She was up to something. She was being too cool, too 'professional' for her NOT to be up to something.

"What – I thought we worked out the whole 'where you were sleeping' thing last night. I get it. Frankly, I'm more concerned about the case."

"Are you always like this when you are wake up?"

"Like what?"

"Working."

"Victor, I'm always working."

"I'm confused."

"I wake up – and my mind goes immediately to what needs to be done to get me and Nat out the door so I can get to work and deal with whatever cases I happen to be working on. I eat, usually sleep, and drink my job. IT is all I have had in my life for the last fifteen years, other than Nat. I haven't had time for anything else."

"I can see why." He grumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She put the file back on the nightstand and climbed out of the bed to grab the first aid kit to bandage her shoulder.

"Well, I don't know about you, but with almost two and a half hours to get ready, I could think about several things other than work." He raked his eyes down her naked body. At least she wasn't trying to hide from him anymore.

"Victor, I don't have time to play games this morning. I have work to do." She snapped.

"Well – excuse me. You didn't mind playing games last night."

"Listen, I am NOT giving up my way of doing things to please you. I get up, I start planning my day. I don't have time to play slap and tickle. I have a job to do." She grabbed the tape and ripped the bandage off. He could hear her try to swallow the hiss.

"What's your problem this morning? I can take care of that, and a lot easier than you seem to be able to."

"That's just it. I don't WANT you to take care of it. You come in here, tell me how things are going to be, and I am used to doing things my way, it's MY house. I am not going to just bow down and kiss your feet, and play - I don't know -'little woman' for you. It isn't happening."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're whole little speech last night – about how you decided, you made up your mind, and this was how things were going to be. It hit me, I didn't have any say in any of it, and I am not going to let some over muscled, chauvinist pig come in here and take over my life." She was PISSED. He shook his head, trying to clear it. She was standing there, both hands on her hips, feet braced, as if for a blow.

"WHAT!?"

"Isn't that what you said last night? YOU decided. You made the decision to force yourself into our lives. Well – you are here, but I am not just going to let you roll over me." He climbed out of bed, and stood towering over her.

"Yeah – that's what I said; I also said I realized that wasn't going to work." He was shouting now. "I am not trying to 'roll over you.' I'm just trying to understand how you went from a sleeping kitten curled up on my side to this screaming tiger that I have by the tail." He reached out and yanked her up against his chest. "Not that it doesn't get my blood boiling, first thing in the morning."

He leaned down and kissed her, hard. He tasted blood and tried to pull back, but her hand was tangled in his hair and she wasn't going to let go…that was when it hit him, her scent. She was angry, but just as aroused and things suddenly clicked. He didn't hide the grin as he picked her up and dumped her in the middle of the bed.

"Good morning to you, too." He said as he wrapped her legs around his hips.

"Victor, this isn't…Oh SHIT! That feels good." She moaned as he slipped inside her. Anger and sex made a great combination. He'd figure out exactly what set her off later, right now, he had his hands full.

XXXXXXXX

They were late. She couldn't believe it. They were going to be late to the site. She honestly didn't know what got into her this morning. He'd been so – she didn't quite know what – last night, and this morning, he'd been normal. It drove her nuts. She'd thought he would be angry about last night, about his 'confessions,' instead he'd been relaxed.

It had just hit her the wrong way, and her temper had flared. Not that she was complaining, he'd certainly handled her temper well…very, very, VERY well, which was why they were late. She was glad Nat was at her mother's this morning.

She climbed out of the truck, file in her good hand. Her vest pinched the shoulder, but she could live with it. She wasn't in the mood for another trip to the hospital. Her mood was better than when she woke up – thanks to him. She looked over at him – and he seemed almost irritated. She just shook her head.

"Wallis – you're late." Jackson shouted as she walked into the trailer.

"Blame Creed." She snapped back.

"I do." He glared over her shoulder where Victor was standing, hovering really.

"Don't you have something to do?" She said over her shoulder.

"No, I took care of that this morning." He snapped, and she tried to hide the blush. FUCK, he wasn't trying to hide that they were sleeping together.

"I don't care about your personal crap – I just want to know who or what the fuck blew up my police station."

"YOUR police station?" She said.

"Well – I am acting chief – that makes it mine." She shrugged her shoulders.

"I went over the file last night – along with a few other things that are coming to light – and have a theory."

"A theory?"

"Yeah."

"Well that's better than nothing I guess."

"Victor, play the message." She said shortly. She heard him snarl behind her, but he pulled his phone out and played the voicemail.

"What the fuck?"

"I got it Saturday morning, before the blast."

"What bathing suit?"

"I was at Avery's in the pool. I had on a new suit." Dana said.

"How did this guy know that?"

"He was evidently watching me – and knew who I was, and that Creed and I have a history."

"History? He's your daughter's father, I'd say that's a history." Jackson snapped.

"I think that whoever did this – was responsible for the Slasher case eleven years ago."

"WHAT!? How is that possible?"

"I'm not one hundred percent certain. I wish I had the file, I have some things I'd like to compare."

"Wait a minute." Victor said.

"What?" She turned and looked at him.

"It was a cold case, right?"

"Yeah…why?"

"When I got here, my boss gave me a huge stack of cold case files, most of them from your department."

"That's right; the Marshall's office checked them out Friday morning." Jackson said.

"They weren't in the building when it blew?"

"Nope – they are still sitting on my desk." Victor said.

"Well don't just stand there – go get them." She said.

"Yes Ma'am." He snarled and turned.

"You and your pet having problems?" Jackson asked.

"Quit."

"What?"

"He's not some animal."

"Dana…come on, after everything that happened eleven years ago, you can honestly say that. I was there, in that interrogation room with you, remember?"

"Yes – I remember."

"I told you then you should have filed charges. Freaks like him shouldn't be allowed on the street."

"Like him – and his daughter perhaps?" She said sharply. Jackson hadn't ever hidden his dislike for mutants."

"I didn't say that…"

"Leave my personal life out of this Jackson…and my daughter." She said sharply, before walking into another office to get away from him. She winced as she sat down, and silently cursed Victor and his damned claws.

XXXXXXXX

"'Well don't just stand there go get them.' Who the fuck does she think she is?" He muttered as he climbed into his truck. First the whole morning mess – okay, not exactly a mess, but he hadn't intended to draw blood, but she'd pushed him, damn it. He'd ended up having to bandage more than just her shoulder. He hoped no one asked her why she was having trouble sitting down. He couldn't stop the grin.

It wasn't like she was his…woman. So she was, and she was in charge of this investigation and she was the mother of his cub and somehow she'd ended up making him run her fucking errands. He slammed his hands against the wheel. He was NOT going to let this keep happening. She needed to get safely under his thumb and quick.

He thought about WHAT she had said this morning, and groaned. That wasn't going to happen – not any time soon. She was going to fight him for every bit of control he took, didn't she realize it would be safer for her and Nat to just do what he wanted. He just wanted them safe, so he didn't have to think about them…and that's when it hit him.

He WANTED to think about them, he wanted her to fight him, he didn't want her to be docile and quiet, she wouldn't be the woman he loved. He winced, even in his mind it sounded weak and frail. How the fuck had she gotten in – and stayed in, damn it.

He knew the answer to that – she'd been Dana. She'd chased him down, hunted him to ground, gotten enough evidence to make charges stick, and arrested him, and then – wouldn't back down, no matter how intimidating he tried to be. She had courage, and intelligence, and he was discovering – a twisted sense of humor that made him laugh at the strangest moments.

He was grinning when he walked into the office. There were only two other officers in the office, most of the others were on the bombing case, and they both just looked at him strangely.

"CREED! My office – NOW!" He groaned. The piss ant was there. He walked into the office.

"Yeah."

"Where have you been?"

"Working the bombing – like you told me to."

"I went by your hotel last night – you'd checked out."

"Yeah – my personal life is complicated at the moment."

"I need to know where to find you."

"Fine." He rattled off the address and phone number. "I'm staying with my daughter's mother – permanently."

"What?"

"I said – it's complicated."

"Who the fuck is this woman – and do we have a background on her?"

"Detective Wallis from PD, and check my background – it's all there." He growled.

"You are fucking the chief investigator for the bombing case?"

"Yeah."

"Is that wise?"

"I said – it's complicated."

"Just don't let it fuck up the case, Creed."

"Yes Sir." He snapped. Today wasn't his day. He stormed out of there and into his office. The boxes of files from the PD file room were still sitting on the floor next to his desk, and a stack of files was on top. He gathered it all up, and started looking for the relevant file.

The piss ant glared at him, as he found the file he was looking for. He had a good idea what she wanted to look at – he wanted to compare the notes as well. Scrugs had gotten a note before he was killed, and that note was in the file, along with the six others before the case had gone cold. The guy just quit.

He grabbed the file and headed out, glaring at the piss ant as he passed by. He didn't know how long he was going to put up with that ass hole, but dealing with it was near the bottom of his list of things to do – right above chaperone a slumber party for his daughter, one pre adolescent girl was enough – he wasn't about to deal with more than one.

He was climbing into the truck when his cell phone rang. It was Nat.

"Hey Trooper."

"Hey Dad, I didn't get to say good night last night."

"Yeah – I was running some errands, didn't get home until late."

"Home?"

"Yeah – kid, home."

"You're really staying?"

"Don't you want me to?" He twisted the key in the ignition sharply, nearly snapping it off.

"Yeah – I just…are you doing this because of me?"

"What?" He was seriously considering driving out of there – and killing the first person he saw. It wasn't worth the headache, at least when he was killing people for a living he could deal with the anger and frustration that way.

"I just don't want you and Mom fighting all the time if you are doing this because of me. You could really hurt her."

"Natalie, I am NOT going to hurt your mother. And NO you are not the main reason I am doing this – she is."

"Really?" He actually heard hope in her voice. Fuck, now he was going to have to deal with the cub.

"Nat – your mother and I will work things out, okay. Don't worry. I'm not going to leave again, I promise."

"Dad – why do I have to be like you?"

This wasn't something he had time to deal with today.

"Trooper – I know I told you we'd talk about it, but I can't right now, for one thing your mother's waiting on me, I had a file at my office she needed. Can we talk about it tonight after dinner?"

"Are you going to be there?"

"Nat – I will be home tonight, I had to get my things last night, alright. I need to unpack, but I'll be home."

"It's weird when you say that." He chuckled.

"Get back to school – I'll see you this evening."

"Okay."

What was with the frails – no females – no women in his life? Dana was IMPOSSIBLE to get, feisty one minute, cool and professional the next, and this morning – he hoped to hell she had a clean set of sheets, because those were going to have to soak to get the blood out. He moaned as his body reacted to the memory. Damn woman, he hoped he'd have time to drag her away at lunch.

And Nat – half the time she acted like she didn't want him around, the other half, like she was scared he was going to disappear. He guessed he couldn't blame her for that, he'd not been around in her life, and only the last eighteen months had there been any regular communication. Judy had made sure he talked to her on holidays, since she was little, but those conversations had always been brief, and without substance. He remembered the first real call between them.

_He was staring down at the body, her blonde curls matted with blood, and the stark look of terror across her face. She couldn't have been more than eight, and he was ready to gut the creep that was doing this to these kids. He was on loan from Denver down to Vegas to deal with this pedophile._

_"Creed – this looks like right up your alley." Marshall Davis said, she was the head of the Vegas office._

_"My alley?"_

_"Yeah – someone who likes to hurt innocent kids." He glared at the woman._

_"No – I never took it out on kids, unless I had a reason, and kids just don't do it for me. I had a type – a profile if you will, and under sixteen, without curves just wasn't it."_

_"That's right – it was brunettes, curvy brunettes and redheads with or without mutations. Did that kid – what was her name, Lee ever recover?"_

_"Yeah – I hear she's married…to an OLD friend." He sneered, she was bringing up ancient history, ancient even for him, Jubilee had been almost fifteen years ago. He hated this woman. She knew too much about him – and liked to advertise it. "Come to think of it – he and I have always had the same taste in women."_

_"That's right – what do they call him, Wolverine? How did you two become enemies anyway – oh that's right – you raped and murdered his wife."_

_"Squaw – but that was a long time ago." He watched her blanch at the native slur. Her Indian blood was strong, and she liked to show it off. "Now can we get back to this case, or am I going home?"_

_"Sure – Creed, scum like you belong behind bars – not putting other people there." She turned and took the perimeter of the scene. LVPD had already processed it, but since they were no longer primary on this case, the Marshall's office was doing its own processing._

_He was kneeling by the body when his phone rang. The light desert breeze was causing loose hairs to stir and he tried to ignore the vibration in his pocket as he tried to get a scent from the body. It was faint – but there. He snatched the phone out of his pocket. _

_Who the fuck was calling him from that area code? He almost ignored it, but something made him answer._

_"Creed."_

_"Dad?"_

_"Natalie?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"How did you get this number?"_

_"Mom had it in her purse."_

_"Why are you calling – I'm not supposed to be talking to you."_

_"Why not – you're my dad?" He groaned. _

_"Natalie put your mother on the phone."_

_"She's not here?"_

_"Where are you?"_

_"At Grandma's."_

_"Put your grandmother on the phone."_

_"She's not here either. Leslie's here. Grandma got to ride in an ambulance."_

_"What?"_

_"She turned all blue and Mom had to call an ambulance. It was kinda cool – but Mom and Grandma both smelled like wet towels." Fear?_

_"Wet towels?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Natalie – don't tell your Mom you called, I'll call your Grandma in a few days."_

_"Okay Dad."  
_

_"And stay out of your Mom's purse."_

_Davis glared at him as he hung up the phone. "Never took you for a family man, Creed?"_

_He just glared, and went back to work._

He'd called back a few days later. Judy had an emphysema attack and had to be rushed to the hospital. It had been the first time Nat had seen one, and Judy had made sure Nat always had his number from then on. At first it had been only once a month or so, when her mother did something to irritate her, or she wanted to talk about her mutation. Then more often as the mutation developed and she became interested in other things, like computer games.

Now she didn't know if she wanted him around, well she was just going to have to get used to it, he was here – and here to stay.


	9. Chapter 9

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They went over the file with a fine toothed comb. The handwriting from the notes threatening Dana almost matched the notes from the old Slasher case, but something was strange, the pieces just weren't falling into place. She groaned as she looked them over, and glanced at the clock. Someone was going to have to go get Nat at school, and she didn't want to leave this. Her gut was acting up, and she KNEW there had to be a link somewhere, she KNEW it.

Victor was out with the recovery teams, and she hated pulling him away, but with the cadaver dogs, he was really more use in the office.

"Unit 483 to Marshall Creed." She said into the radio on her desk.

"Creed here – what is it, Dana?" He sounded put out, and she grinned.

"I need you in the command center."

"On my way." He sounded REALLY put out.

She turned the chair and looked at the board behind her. She just couldn't connect the dots. Something was missing – some connection.

"What is it?" He snapped as he walked into the office she was using.

"I really could use your help in here." She said.

"I'm out there trying to find the damned bombs so we can test to determine exactly what explosives were used, so if you don't mind."

"We have dogs that can do that, Victor. I need your BRAIN in here more than I need your NOSE out there."

"Dana – no offense, but…"

"I'm not asking, Creed." She snapped.

"What?"

"That was an order."

"Excuse me?" He gave her a slightly stunned look.

"I'm in charge of this investigation, if you want to be involved you can obey orders, if not, you can go back to your office and sort through cold case files." She was still irritated by his high handed treatment, and if this was the only way she could exert herself, so be it.

He just glared and then shrugged.

"Fine – what is it that's so important."

"I need another pair of eyes to go over all of this – and you are an outsider, you might see a connection I missed because I was inside the department."

"You're looking inside the department?"

"Yeah – three of the letters were delivered to my desk, there were inconsistencies in the Slasher file that back then I thought might have something to do with someone in the department, and whoever blew up that building knew exactly where to hit us to do the most damage."

"Good point, but could it necessarily be someone in the department, what about support staff?"

"I don't think support staff had access to those areas, the evidence room is…was locked down tight, with sign in and sign out procedures just to go in. The file room was easier, but not by much. Only file staff went beyond the front desk. Everyone had background checks run, and NOTHING showed in any of them. I had the FBI pull the files on them. They will be sending them over tomorrow."

"What about janitorial or cleaning crews?" He was looking at the board.

"We had the same contractor for twenty years – I think we had the same janitor for twenty years. I can call them, I don't think he was working Saturday afternoon, but I can have them pull the schedule. But…"

"I just want to look at everything, if you're going to pull me for this."

"Victor – I need you on this."

"You need me…I like the sound of that. Think I can hear it again – later." He leered.

"CREED!" She snapped.

"WALLIS!" He snapped back. "How much longer are we going to play this game?"

"I'm not playing a game."

"I know…but you are. So let's quit and take care of what has to be done without power games."

"Look who's talking?"

"Dana…" She stood up and walked over to him.

"You are taking over my life, and this is ONE place you are NOT taking over. MY job is my life, you can force your way in at home, with Nat, and I'll even concede that you have a right to do so with her, but you are NOT taking over my JOB! Got it." She punctuated it with a finger into his chest.

"Dana – you still don't get it." His arms snaked out, crushing her against him. "You're mine. I'll take over where ever and when ever I feel like it – and right now, you need to take a break." He leaned down and kissed her. She tried to push him away as the door opened, but he just grinned against her mouth, and deepened the kiss.

"Alright…save it for after shift." Jackson sniped.

"Only way I can get her to shut up." Victor quipped back at him. She slapped him.

"Keep it up, Creed; you'll be back in YOUR office and off this case."

"No I won't, because YOU bring your work home; and since your favorite place to work is the bed, I'll get to see and hear plenty." He grinned

"Whatever." She just threw her hands up in the air as he let her go. "I'm going to call about those schedules and employment records; YOU can swing by and pick them up when you pick up your daughter from school."

"MY daughter…don't you mean OUR daughter?"

"Right now, I want to kick your ass in to next week, so stop pushing me." She muttered and sat back down in the chair, glaring at him as he grinned and chuckled at her hiss of discomfort.

XXXXXXXXXX

He was sitting outside the school. The janitorial company had been very helpful, providing all the shift records, even the background checks they ran on all their employees, and all without a warrant. She'd been right and wrong, the regular guy wasn't scheduled to work on Saturday, but the weekend guy had called in sick, so the regular guy was there until noon.

He had a few questions to ask him – what parts of the building he cleaned, what access he had to secured areas of the building, and a few questions about his military background. Something about this guy bugged him.

The bell sounded – a high pitched ringing that nearly had him clutching his ears. Damn Dana, sending him to do this. She had to know how those noises hurt his ears – but then again, maybe not. Natalie hadn't developed the senses as strongly yet. The physical manifestations were first with ferals, the fangs and claws, followed by the slow sharpening of the senses as the body matured, until the healing factor became fully active on physical maturity. Nat's senses weren't as sharp yet, she could pick up on some things, her hearing was better than her sense of smell at the moment.

He saw her looking around, and opened the truck door and climbed out.

"DAD!" she yelled, "what are YOU doing here?"

"Your Mom's working and I had to pick up something on this side of town."

"Where's Grandma?"

"I don't know, your Mom told me to pick you up, and she was in a real temper when she did."

"What did you do?"

"WHAT?!"

"Mom NEVER gets mad. Well, okay sometimes when I do something really dumb, but not usually. You had to do SOMETHING really dumb didn't you?"

"For your information – I can't remember a time when your mother WASN'T mad." He snarled.

"Whatever."

"You get that from her!" He snapped. Natalie just laughed. "So about what you said at lunch?"

"What?" 

"About being like me?"

"Yeah – why can't I be like everyone else? I wish I could play in PE and have people throw me the ball without being afraid I'll puncture it with my claws, and forget tetherball." He just looked at her strangely. "My teachers don't like me to write on the whiteboard because my claws scratch it up, and then there's the whole fang thing. I hate being called the Vampire kid."

"Vampire kid?"

"Yeah – or the Wolfman. I'm a GIRL!"

He just stared at her, and made an executive decision. This was more important than getting those employment records back to Dana.

"Give me a sec – and we'll go talk." He grabbed the radio. "Creed to unit 483."

"Tell me you have those records."

"Yeah – but I need to talk to Nat. I'll have them at the house tonight."

"VICTOR you get her to my Mom's and get your ass back to the site."

"NO! Nat and I need to talk, this is important, and NOT something you can help her with. These records don't have anything in them that is going to help you 'connect the dots' so you can look at them later."

"VICTOR!"

"Creed OUT!" He reached over and switched the radio off.

"Oh my God – she's really mad. Maybe you better just drop me off." Nat said.

"No, this is important." He said simply. "You and I need to work some stuff out."

"Dad."

"Trooper, can your Mom talk to you about your mutation?"

"No."

"Okay then." He drove to a grocery store.

"What are we doing?"

"Well – there are two ways we can do this, over ice cream or over a beer, and since you aren't old enough to drink – ice cream it is."

"You are STRANGE, Dad." She said, but followed him into the store. He knew there were going to be things he couldn't help her with, not because she was a frail, but because when he was her age, he hadn't had any contact with other kids. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember those days, but she had a right to know what he COULD tell her.

A half a gallon of fudge ripple ice cream and a bottle of root beer for floats and they climbed back into the truck. He drove them home, and started serving up ice cream.

"Who's picking up Mom at work?"

"SHIT!?" He ran out to the truck and grabbed his hand held radio. "Unit 531 this is Marshall Creed."

"What is it, Vic?"

"Would you make sure Dana makes it home? I kinda have something to deal with."

"Work?"

"No – kid."

"AHHHHH….sure. What should I tell her?"

"She's already pissed at me – tell her the damned truth, I forgot."

"God I hope her couch is comfortable."

"Fuck that – pissed is a GOOD thing, at least with her."

"Creed there's pissed and then there is Royally Pissed Off…pissed is great sex, I don't care who the woman is….RPO'd is on the couch for a week and don't even THINK about touching her for a month…"

"Not in my house."

"Creed – last time I checked, you are in HER house."

"That's what SHE thinks."

"I'll have the spare room ready – just in case."

"Fuck you."

"At least I'll get laid. YOU won't." He chuckled and shut off the radio. He really didn't care if she heard that or not.

"Okay – kido, Mom's taken care of."

"What did you do?"

"Avery's picking her up."

"Oh."

"So – what's the deal?" He sat down at the breakfast bar, across from the troubled ten year old.

"Kids at school are being a little mean. I mean – I can deal with Fang Face, and Bucky the Vampire Slayer…"

"Bucky the…? What the fuck?"

"It's the overbite with the fangs."

"I thought the retainer was working on the overbite?"

"It is…but now the dentist had to cut holes for the fangs to go through and they show."

"Ohhhh. Bucky the Vampire Slayer…I like that."

"I don't – okay maybe a little, but I'm always picked last for dodge ball because I can't catch the ball – or throw it without popping it. I can't get anyone to play tether ball with me, and only my friend Rebecca will play with me at recess because everyone's afraid I'll scratch them or something."

He had a strange feeling that maybe his parents had done him a favor, locking him in that cellar, kids could be MEAN! No, he would have traded even the worst that kids could come up with for one day in the sun at her age. He wanted to tell her just how damned lucky she was, but he didn't want to delve too deep into those memories.

"Why does Rebecca play with you?"

"She's kinda different too, her dad's kinda mean, and she always has to wear long sleeves and stuff, the other kids don't like her because she dresses weird." He was going to have to pay Rebecca's dad a little visit. "He and her mom got into a fight – they told everyone it was play wrestling, but Mom told me the truth, and her mom was in the hospital a couple days. Becca had to be really good and not upset her dad while her mom was gone."

"Is Becca's Dad why you don't want me to stay?"

"Kinda – I don't want Mom to get hurt."

"Trooper, I PROMISE I am not going to hurt you or your mother."

"It's just that you could – without even thinking about it. You're so big."

"And I KNOW how to control that. I've been doing it for years. I only hurt people if I WANT to." He said, trying to hide the bitter taste in his mouth. She didn't have to know how much he wanted to hurt people sometimes.

"Before I saw you – I really wanted you to come live with us, but Becca's Dad is big, and I am afraid he's going to really hurt her one of these days. I don't want to be afraid."

"What can I do?"

"I don't know."

"How about we take it one day at a time?"

"Okay."

"Now – about those other things, I can't force the kids to play with you, Trooper. I'm not really good with dealing with cubs in the first place."

"Why do you call me that?"

"What?"

"Cub."

"It's a long story, and I'm not sure I want to tell it – or you want to hear it."

"I want to know about you. You're my Dad, and everyone at school can tell stories about their Dad, even if they don't live with them. Some kids have two or three Dads sometimes, but I don't know much about you at all."

"Well – there's not much to tell, and what there is – well you are just not old enough to deal with some of it."

"How did you deal with kids when you were my age, I mean didn't they make fun of you?"

"I wish."

"Why?"

"I never got to play with kids when I was your age."

"Why not?"

"My parents…Trooper, I really don't want to talk about this."

"Dad?"

"Okay – but it ain't pretty. My parents were afraid of me, I guess. My mother was always afraid, of me, of my father, of her shadow I think. It was a long time ago, and things were very different back then. I never got to go to school, I never…" He stopped the chill creeping down his spine as he remembered what his life had been like at her age. Those years were still fuel for nightmares – almost one hundred fifty years later. "My father was ashamed of me, thought I was deformed, he locked me away, in a cellar. The first memories I can remember were that cellar, and trying to be good so he'd let me out. I had to have been four or five at the time. By the time I was your age, I'd gone from trying to figure out WHY I was down there, to just trying to get OUT."

"That's HORRIBLE. I mean Becca's Dad is bad, but grandpa sounds worse."

"DON'T EVER CALL HIM THAT!" He roared, and immediately regretted it as she cringed. "I just…he never earned the right to be a father; he certainly never earned the right to be a grandfather."

"Okay." She sniffled into her float.

"Nat, Trooper, I yell – when things hit me, when I get mad, and talking about my father gets me mad. Okay? I'm not really mad at you, I'm mad at him, for what he did to me."

She just nodded.

"It took me a long time to even be able to talk about him at all. They made me see a shrink when I…when they gave me my job and my badge. I have to say this – that shrink had guts; my head ain't anyplace people would want to examine for very long. He got in there though, helped me see that some of the things I've done were for reasons I didn't even understand."

"I know all the stuff I was able to find on the internet said you were really bad."

"I was."

"But not anymore?"

"I don't hurt people without a reason anymore. I go through a hell of a lot of punching bags, but I don't hurt people, unless I have a really good reason to."

"That's nice to know." Dana said from the kitchen door. He could tell she was furious.

"Nat needed to talk." He said.

"Nat – go to your room."

"MOM!"

"NOW!" Nat glared at her mother but stormed out of the kitchen.

"ICE CREAM! She'll be up half the night."

"Dana, back the fuck off. If I want to give her something else to concentrate on so that I can get her to tell me the things that are bothering her, I will, and you won't fucking stop me. She's MY daughter, remember."

She just glared at him and dumped the almost empty glasses in the sink.

"She's being teased at school, her only friend at school is being abused, and she's afraid I will hurt you and her the same way Becca's Dad hurts her." 

Dana turned and looked at him, shock on her face.

"She told you that."

"Pretty much, yeah, I mean the part about Becca's Dad kinda came out in the other stuff she was saying."

"I knew things were bad with Rebecca's mother and father, but I didn't know SHE was being hurt."

"Dana…"

"I'm going to have child services look into it, quietly."

"Let me have a chat with him first."

"NO!"

"I won't KILL him…just talk to him."

"Child services…"

"Will take her away from her mother, out of school, and there will be a long drawn out investigation with her dumped in foster families. Let me try talking to him first."

"Sure why not, send Sabretooth to deal with a child abuser."

"That's one thing I don't put up with, okay. I may yell, I may fight for control and dominance between us, but I have NEVER hurt you."

"BULLSHIT!"

"Name ONE time…and last night doesn't count…you begged for it." She glared at him.

"Eleven years ago."

"I didn't hurt you – did I?"

"Oh yeah."

"Dana…you are right I did, at first. You probably should have pressed charges."

"I thought about it…for three days. But I knew the question would be, why did I stay – after? I don't want to talk about this now, Victor."

"I don't either."

"Did your father really throw you in a cellar?"

"You heard that?"

"Yeah." 

"Yes, I lived – from the first memories I have until I was about thirteen in a dark damp root cellar, chained to a wall, beaten, my father…would pull my fangs and claws out. My healing factor developed early, at first they'd grow back, it would take a couple days. I can remember, I was about four, scratching at the door to the cellar with bloody fingers, begging to be let out, promising to be good if they'd just let me out. It took three days for them to grow back, and every time they did he'd do it again, until my mutation compensated and I'd grow them back almost immediately. That was when he started chaining and muzzling me."

"Where was your mother?"

"I told Nat she was afraid – and looking back I guess she had reason to be, my father was brutal. I don't know how he treated her. I only remember seeing her three times in my life. Once I was about eight, he dragged her down there, by her hair to remind her what a monster she'd given birth to, once when I was about Nat's age, she actually tried to help, she snuck food and a blanket down to me, and then the day I escaped.

"What happened?

"I'd been loosening the chains. I was about thirteen, I think, when they finally came free from the wall. I managed to get the muzzle off; I couldn't get the collar off of my neck so I was dragging that chain with me." He wasn't even looking at Dana anymore. He was locked in the memory. "I remember carrying it up the stairs to the door so it wouldn't make any noise. The door wasn't very strong and I kicked it down with one blow. He heard me, came running from the living room and grabbed an axe he kept by the back door for chopping wood. He started to swing it at me as she ran into the room. She ran right into it. The combined force of her movement and his back swing nearly took her head off. She dropped to the ground. Blood was everywhere."

"Victor…" Her voice was there, but he couldn't stop.

"He swung it at me, her blood on the blade, and I didn't think, I ducked and then charged him, came in under his arms as he tried to swing it back, hit him with my claws in his gut, I just wanted to stop him, and I didn't even think about how sharp they were. I cut right through and his…" This time he stopped. It wasn't the horror stricken look on Dana's face that stopped him; it was the little girl in the doorway."Nat?"

"Dad?"

"You shouldn't have heard that. You should be in your room."

She walked over and slipped her arms around his waist. He was stunned. She'd just heard how he'd killed his father, and she was trying to comfort him. It was Dana's arms slipping around from the other side, just above Natalie's head, Dana's head resting on his shoulder that brought him back to reality. He slipped an arm around both of them and rested his head on top of Dana's. He did something he couldn't ever remember doing.

"I'm sorry."


	10. Chapter 10

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dana didn't say a word, just washed the dishes from the floats and started dinner. Nat clung to him, and somehow he didn't want to let her go. He walked into the living room, with her right behind him and sat on the couch. She climbed into his lap and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Dad, you didn't do anything wrong." She whispered.

"It was the start – of everything I became." He stroked her hair and silently vowed to himself that she would NEVER face what he'd faced in his lifetime.

"You can stay if you want." She whispered, and reached up and kissed him on the cheek. He was stunned for a moment. Here was this child, his child, and she wasn't afraid of him, she curled up in his lap, and tried to comfort HIM. He'd told Dana she'd done a good job, but right now, he was starting to think that maybe she'd done a fantastic job, and he was just going to screw everything up.

"We'll all make that decision together." He said.

"Okay." She laughed, and snuggled closer. He just sat there and held her. He heard the slight gasp as Dana walked into the living room, and then she curled up next to him, and let him drape an arm around her too.

"I had no idea…" She said softly. "The files I have didn't go back that far."

"Yeah – well it's not been easy forcing myself to deal with my father. My therapist said I needed to deal with it, and I've been trying, but it's not easy."

"Therapist?"

"Did you honestly think they would give me a badge and a gun without sending me through therapy first?"

"I honestly hadn't thought about it. I feel sorry for your therapist."

"Yeah – well I'll give him credit; he's got guts, dealing with my issues."

"Does he know about us?"

"Yes, Dana…and yes I'm acting against his advice. He said to give it time, but we don't have time."

"Yes we do."

"Dana – you are what thirty-five?"

"You know how old I am."

"You aren't getting any younger, and I want a lifetime with you." He said it softly, and meant it. The last two mornings, waking up with her had made his mind up. He didn't ever want to wake up alone again – or with anyone else.

"Victor we agreed not to discuss this right now."

"I'm not discussing, I'm just stating my position." He wanted to growl.

"Mom – is Dad staying or not?"

"I told you, Nat, he's staying, at least until this case is done." He bit back the growl as she continued. "After that, we'll have to see."

"I wasn't sure I wanted him to stay, but I am now. I can put up with his growling and yelling, if you can." He felt Dana's silent chuckle against his side.

"Nat why don't you go start your homework. Your Dad has some papers I need to look at." She said quietly. Nat just nodded, and kissed his cheek again before running for the kitchen to grab her backpack.

"Dana – there's nothing in that file…"

"Actually there is. I think I know who's behind this."

"What?"

"After you left I thought about what you said, about support staff, and I found my notes from eleven years ago, I interviewed McFarlain back then, about the Slasher case, I was looking into him when I found the evidence pointing at you."

"What?"

"You were a red herring – a wild goose. I think maybe some of the evidence was planted, making me look at a more 'obvious' suspect."

"McFarlain, the janitor?"

"Yes."

"Well, that certainly makes sense – at least with the notes, but…"

"But nothing, the Slasher case was never closed, even after it went cold. People have been going back to it, making notes for eleven years. There were six murders originally, as of day before the bombing, if my triple gunshot vic is, as I suspect, another one, we have a total of sixty four homicides all linked to the original case."

"What? Show me."

"My copy of the file is in the kitchen – you can help with dinner while you look it over."

He sat at the island, reading the notes she'd made, he only stopped long enough to go out to the truck and grab the file from the janitorial service. She was right; the employment records supported her theory. ALL the murders linked to the Slasher occurred on days McFarlain was not working, and, since the records included copies of the evidence room log, the three times evidence was tampered with, McFarlain had been cleaning the evidence room.

"Why didn't you ever go back to him – after?"

"I was more than a little confused, for starters, and he'd been there for so long, and was so trusted that no one wanted to listen. I had no support for my theory."

"Well, you've got me, now; because I think you are right. Now we just have to PROVE it."

"He was off Friday; he didn't know the cold cases had been checked out. He doesn't know we have these notes. I also called a judge and subpoenaed his medical records. I think I know why he bombed the building."

"You think he's responsible for that, too?"

"Yes. He's dying, pancreatic cancer. I don't know WHY, but I think his medical condition has something to do with it."

"I think I might be able to help with the 'why.' He was military police when he was in the Army. He tried to join the force, but he didn't meet the education requirements. He'd gone into the army on a high school waiver. He never graduated. He wanted to be a cop. All of these guys – every one of them was a three time loser; I think he thought he was serving justice. Now, he doesn't trust the department to do as good a job as he did, so he did a house cleaning."

"Oh my God." Dana just stared at him. "We just have to put him at the scene."

"The regular weekend guy called in sick Friday night. McFarlain worked Saturday morning."

She just stared at him, a spatula in her hand.

"SHIT!"

"What?"

"You are GOOD!"

He chuckled.

"No – really. My God, Victor, why did you waste all those years?"

"I am good at whatever I do, Dana. I like puzzles." He chopped the tomatoes she handed him for the salad, glancing at the files as he worked. It suddenly occurred to him – he liked this. He liked talking to her like this, working together, no animosity, no blame, no hostility, just conversation and companionship.

"Dana – there's something I want to say, and I don't want you thinking I'm pushing." He said quietly as he handed her the bowl of tomatoes and took the cucumber from her.

"Victor."

"Please. This is nice." He turned back to the island and his cutting board and files.

"Yeah – it is." He could hear her smile, even with her back to him at the stove.

"TROOPER – DINNER!" He shouted, and she laughed.

"I guess you MIGHT fit in around here after all." They were grinning when Natalie walked into the kitchen, and she just smiled and joined them. He'd never done this domestic thing, even with all the problems – it was worth it. What he'd told Dana was true, she was thirty five, if they didn't hurry up, they'd miss whatever chances they had at another child, and he didn't want to wake up alone for the next fifty years. He knew what time he had with her was short – because she was human, not because he was afraid he'd screw up.

Nat he would always have, his daughter had a full dose of his mutation, and he knew she'd be just fine, it was Dana – she was the reason he was here. He didn't want to lose what time he could have with her. All this frail crap was going to get him, eventually was heartache and a cold bed, but for the first time in his long life, he was willing to deal with eventually, for the joy of the years he could have.

She looked at him strangely over the island. They were eating in the kitchen instead of at the table, and he just shrugged.

"Nat – you have dishes, then get your bath." She said. He groaned at the thought of trying to soak in that pillbox she called a tub.

"Dana – please, at least consider letting me help."

"Help – what kind of help?" She snapped.

"Around the house – I can do the dishes." He said.

"YOU wash dishes."

"Yes."

"Fine – Nat after dinner, get your bath and then finish your homework. Once you're done you can watch TV." Nat gave him a grin and dashed from the kitchen.

"They're all yours. I'm going to take the files to the living room." She said. He just nodded and started stacking dishes.

XXXXXXXXXX

He offered to wash dishes? And what was with that strange look at dinner, almost as if…there was something wrong with her? Did he know something she didn't? She tried to forget the puzzle in her kitchen, and concentrate on the one in her lap.

McFarlain had been her prime suspect before she'd gotten fixated on Victor. If she'd been able to control her hormones eleven years ago, this never would have happened. It was all her fault. She'd fallen down on the job, let Victor cloud her mind and her judgment, and a killer had gone free – for eleven years, and now at last count after lunch one thousand eighty seven people were dead, three hundred and eleven injured. And that wasn't counting his individual victims, just the bombing.

She started trying to build a case again. She had her original notes, even if the evidence was gone, and the evidence on the other cases – except the triple gunshot guy – the evidence from that case was still at the criminalistics lab, over at the courthouse.

"Dana – this isn't your fault?"

"What?"

"I could smell the guilt." He was drying his hands on a towel in the kitchen door.

"If I hadn't allowed…"

"No. You didn't do this."

"Victor." She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes.

He walked over and sat on the couch, pulling her against his shoulder. "Dana, if you want to blame someone – blame me."

"What?"

"I distracted you. I taunted you, made you chase after me for my own reasons, I completely admit it. I wanted you, from the moment I saw you, and as soon as I got a good read on you, I knew exactly what buttons to push to get what I wanted." He said it softly, matter of factly.

"You ass."

"Yep."

She laughed, and shook her head.

"No, I was the cop, I was the one that let my…"

"Go on."

"Let my feelings rule my brain."

"That wasn't what you were going to say."

"Victor."

"Dana, can we forget blame, and concentrate on getting this guy?"

"Yeah."

"And can we forget about HIM – tonight."

"Victor – this is what I do."

"Then it's time you changed a few things."

"There you go, issuing orders again."

"Hey – it's not an order, just a suggestion, but YOU need to relax." He stood up and walked around the back of the couch, and gently started rubbing her shoulders. She couldn't stop the moan from escaping her lips. "Yep, you need to relax, there's years worth of knots in your shoulders."

"Fine." She said as she rolled her head back, and let him kneed the tension from her neck and shoulders. She hadn't even known it was there, until she felt it go away.

"Now that you're more relaxed…" he said, and she could hear the sly tone in his voice "what do you say to you me and Nat going to a hotel for the night, one with a HUGE tub."

"VICTOR!" She sat up.

"What?"

"We can't afford that."

"I can."

"How?"

"Dana – you remember what I USED to do – well it was lucrative, very lucrative. I have more money sitting around than Midas."

"Victor…Nat and I aren't used to…"

"I know – you wouldn't LET me." He did snarl that time.

"And I won't now. How will she learn any responsibility if we don't live within our means?"

"It's within my means." He said.

"And what happens when you are tired of playing house? I don't have any reason to think this is really a long term thing for you. It's not in your nature."

"How do you know what's in my nature? I WANT to be with you – both of you. Dana, I don't ever…" He shook his head. "No – we agreed not to do this."

"I don't trust you not to just walk out on us again."

"Again – I never got the chance to be there the FIRST time." He snarled.

He was right. She'd never given him any chance. After the initial shock of that night, she'd started gathering whatever information she could about him, trying to build a case…and then she'd found out she was pregnant. She'd considered an abortion – for five seconds, and it had been a friend in Child Services that convinced her to get a paternity settlement at least. She'd made sure he never got near them; he had no visitation, no legal right to Nat. His attorney had insisted on putting his name on the birth certificate, and making sure she had a way to contact him if she needed anything.

Now here he was, in her home, in their lives, and she was afraid he would walk out and leave them, right when she was starting to need him.

That thought frightened her more than anything. From the age of ten she'd known she wanted to be a cop, and she didn't let anything get in her way. High School was all about getting the grades to get into the academy. Boys were nothing she'd ever paid attention to. College was the same. Even at work, it was still such a 'boys' club' that she'd never even considered a relationship because it would be a disadvantage. She hadn't needed anyone, in her entire life, except Nat, and now she was finding herself needing him.

"I'm sorry." She said softly.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I just want a chance." He said into her hair as he leaned down to kiss the nape of her neck.

"DAD!"

"What?"

"Quit biting Mom." She said standing at the foot of the stairs.

"I'm not biting." She could hear the grin in his voice.

"Whatever, just quit." She said and turned to go back upstairs.

"So much for quiet time."

"Alright." She said.

"Alright what?" He walked around the couch and sat in the chair opposite her.

"About that chance – you're right, I never gave you one. I took everything I found out about you and let that frighten me into keeping you as far away from us as possible. I am beginning to think that might have been a mistake. I still don't like the idea of being dependent on you for anything."

"I never said dependent. I said let me help."

"Money has always been a sore subject for me; I try to live within my means, to show Nat that it can be done. She doesn't do without, but as a single Mom, I've never been able to just indulge her, and I don't want to start now."

"Dana – I understand that. But if I'm going to be here – in this house with both of you, I am going to need a few concessions, just because of physical needs if nothing else."

"What do you mean?"

"One – I need a tub I can fit in. I LIKE baths. I need baths."

"What?"

"I don't fit in that thing you call a tub."

She laughed – she hadn't even thought about it, but he was right. His seven foot two frame wouldn't fit in her five foot tub.

"Okay – you can remodel the bathroom."

"What?"

"Or have it done – I don't care. I'm not above admitting when I am being too stubborn."

"You confuse the hell out of me, Woman." He growled, and then grinned.

"Why?"

"The things I think you'll fight about, you just…don't, and the things I think will be fairly simple, I get battle royal."

"I'm practical, Victor. If you give me a practical reason, I will at least think about it, but if you try to just come in and take over, I will fight. It's my home, I bought it, Nat and I decorated it, I don't want to give that up."

"And I don't want you to. The guest room has to go; I'll need the room to do both bathrooms."

"BOTH bathrooms."

"Not at ONCE! I'll probably have the master done first. Then the main bathroom, so we don't lose the shower." Give the man an inch and he took a mile.

"Victor I don't want my bedroom messed up."

"It'll take a couple days – we can stay at a hotel until it's done."

"And who's going to be doing this?"

"I'll HIRE someone."

"I'm NOT staying in a hotel." She could see him getting frustrated again.

"Dana – I'm asking, will you let me put a decent bathroom in the house – TWO decent bathrooms, either that or I'm going to start shopping for a house."

"I'm NOT moving."

"Then let me do this. I actually kinda like this house. It's not as big as I prefer, but it's cozy, and any more space and we'd have to hire someone to clean."

"That guest room is for my mother when she comes…"

"I'll put in another guest room off the back of the house – with its own bathroom, later. Can we just do one thing at a time?"

She glared at him – and then realized exactly what he was doing – he'd gotten her mind off of work.

"I will THINK about maybe looking at another house – as long as I'm on the title AND the mortgage, and we can just do the master bathroom for now, and turn the rest of the space in the spare room into a walk in closet."

"No – if we're going to buy another house…" He glared at her, and she saw the realization on his face, she'd caught him red handed. "Damn it."

She chuckled. "Let's get through this CASE first. You can live with showers until then."

"Alright…for now."

She looked at the clock. It was already nine thirty. She had to be back at the site by eight tomorrow morning, and she had a feeling she wasn't going to get a whole lot of sleep tonight.

"Speaking of showers – I'm going to go get one, and get Nat tucked into bed. Lock up when you come up." She stood up and started for the stairs. His arm snaked out and yanked her down into his lap in the chair.

"No rough stuff – as much as I love the smell and taste of your blood, I like to be the one to draw it." He whispered against her ear, nipping lightly with his teeth. She moaned as she felt her body responding to his. She tried to remember why she'd ever felt unclean…and couldn't.

"Okay – that reminds me, change the bed…there are clean sheets in the hall closet."

"I think we need to invest in some red sheets." He said as he licked down her neck.

"I think you are right – and there is a set of burgundy sheets in the closet." She let her fingers tangle in his hair. She'd been surprised eleven years ago at just how soft his hair was, and it still surprised her. She couldn't get the over the sensation, it was like silk.

"Keep that up, please." He whispered against her neck, nipping with his teeth.

"Later – after Nat's asleep." She whispered back.

"MOM!" The little imp was standing at the bottom of the stairs again – her nightgown and hair damp from her bath.

"What?"

"You're in Dad's LAP!"

"Yes."

"Gross." They both laughed.

"Get used to it, Trooper, I like to touch your Mom." He said, and she blushed. She could feel just how much he 'liked' to touch her pressed against her hip.

"Just…ewwwwww." Blonde curls swung around as Nat stormed back up the stairs.

"Better get the Trooper to bed – and hope she sleeps soundly, I want to hear you scream for me again." He nipped her neck again, and she moaned. "Damn, Dana you smell so good."

"We can't do this…"

"She'll get used to it, how the hell do you think she got here?"

"Victor…"

"Surely you've had the 'talk' with her?"

"Yes."

"Then she needs to understand that people who…" he swallowed hard "love each other tend to have sex – a lot."

"Victor I haven't said…"

"I know. But I have."

"I need to go tuck her in." She climbed out of his lap, suddenly uncomfortable again. The problem wasn't that she didn't…it was that she was afraid she did. She was starting to need him – no, she'd always needed him; she was only just now realizing it.

"I'll be up in a bit. I want to get these files straightened up."

She nodded, and stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Victor…you're right. She's going to have to get used to it."

He glanced up from where he'd stood up to gather the files from the coffee table.

"And you're right about something else…it is what people who love each other do. And I do…" She turned to walk up the stairs, she always forgot just how quiet he could be, suddenly her feet left the step and he carried her up the stairs three at a time.

"Victor!"

"Shut up." He closed the bedroom door and grabbed the pants he'd worn yesterday. "Dana…will you marry me?"

He was standing there, a velvet box in his hand, his heart in his eyes and his face, and all she could do was nod. He slipped the ring onto her finger, and then both hands on either side of her face. This kiss was different, not possessive, more like worshipful and she couldn't stop the tears falling down her cheeks. He pulled her tight against him and she winced as her shoulder twinged.

"Sorry…" He whispered.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Nat was standing right outside.

He reached over, her cheek feeling cold with his hand gone, and opened the door.

"Mom – is he really sleeping with you?"

"Yes, Nat…we're getting married." She said.

"Married?"

"Yes."

"REALLY!"

"Yes…really."

Nat slipped her arms around Dana's waist. Victor slipped his arms around both of them, and Dana felt so safe in that instant.

"Does this mean you guys will be…you know."

"Yes."

"EEEWWWWWWWWWW!" 


	11. Chapter 11

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dana groaned, she was laying on her shoulder, a weight pressing her down into the mattress and a throbbing pulse against her cheek.

"Dana would you hit the snooze on my watch, my arm's asleep." He growled into her ear.

She groaned again and tried to move.

"Don't move, woman." He growled. "I like you right where you are."

"My shoulder hurts." She said.

"DAMN! I didn't realize…" He pulled his arm from around her waist and she rolled off the injured shoulder. She sighed as the lack of pressure relieved the pain.

"We need to get around anyway." She said softly looking up at him as he leaned over her.

"Nat's got school."

"We have work at the site."

"We have plans for lunch." He grinned down at her. She smiled back at him. He wasn't wasting any time, and she'd agreed to pull Nat out of school after lunch so they could go to the courthouse and get married.

"I still say we need to call my mother." She said.

"If you want." He said, rolling off his side of the bed. "We could use a witness anyway."

"Hey – Creed." He was standing in front of the closet, pulling out clothes for the day, his naked back a vision in front of her.

"What?" He turned and glared at her, he hated her using her 'cop' voice on him.

"I love you." She'd never, in all the years she'd imagined him, EVER expected to see that look on his face. His eyes were bright, a slight smile on his lips, and he just looked – well silly.

"Woman, one of these days…" He said finally.

"What? One of these days what?" She said climbing out of bed, and his eyes turned intense as he raked them over her naked body.

"One of these days I'm gonna get to keep you in bed all morning." They both laughed and she walked to the closet next to him and grabbed her clothes for the day. His arm snaked out and yanked her against his side.

"Don't forget your vest." He whispered, before kissing her.

"I won't." She replied when he would let her speak.

She was grinning like an idiot; she could feel it, as she climbed into the shower. Nat was still asleep, and she stood under the water, unable to stop grinning. She was getting married – to Sabretooth – and she was grinning like a loon. The sound of the door opening startled her. She thought it might be Nat, until the shower curtain opened, and he stepped in.

"Don't see any reason to waste the hot water." He grinned, as he reached past her for the soap. She grinned back, and turned to allow him to soap her back. She moaned as his hands traced gently down her spine, his claws lightly scraping the skin. She felt his teeth scrape along the back of her neck as his soapy hands slipped around her sides and pulled her back against him. She could feel him against her back and grinned. She started to turn in his arms, to meet him – when the door opened again.

"MOM! DAD! That's GROSS!" Nat said before she slammed the door.

"She's your daughter." Dana said.

"MINE! Little minx is all yours." He growled, kissing her before shoving her out of the shower.

"Little minx is staying with her grandmother for a few days." Dana said with a grin.

"I think that's a great idea." He grinned back, before shutting the shower curtain. She laughed and toweled off, grabbed her robe and slipped it on, and headed back to the master bedroom to get dressed.

XXXXXXXXXXX

She'd said yes. He was still reeling over that. He hadn't expected her to just…say yes. He'd been ready for a fight, an argument, even her saying no again, but not yes. Nat's reaction had been amusing, but she would just have to adjust, he wasn't giving up now. He still couldn't believe she'd agreed to just do it, this afternoon, no planning, and no big ceremony, just go to the courthouse and get it done. Simple, just the way he liked it. He was still grinning when he climbed out of the shower.

Now all they had to do was catch McFarlain. He didn't like that some of the threats were against Nat, and there was something bothering him about the notes, about how the handwriting almost matched. He supposed that could be attributable to age, the man's handwriting changing over the years, and he didn't like the terminal diagnosis. A man in that kind of shape shouldn't be able to sit on a rooftop and take potshots at cops in the debris.

Of course the sniper had only taken shots the first day, the last two days had been quiet, but Victor just had a sinking feeling this wasn't over. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to the master bedroom. Dana was dressed, and slipping her gun into her shoulder holster when he walked in.

"I'm still not one hundred percent convinced he's acting alone." Victor said as he grabbed his slacks. He glanced at his woman, in the light spring dress with a light jacket over, to hide the gun. She looked beautiful, almost enough to distract him from his train of thought.

"I agree, in his condition, based on the medical report, he shouldn't have been able to work Saturday, much less be able to take accurate sniper shots at people in the debris."

"So you think he has an accomplice?"

"Yeah – I just don't know who. I want them BOTH, I'll settle for McFarlain now, and catch the other one later."

"You know we could be totally off base, and they are separate cases." He said as he buttoned his shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his slacks.

"I don't think so; my gut says we are right."

"And your gut's never wrong?"

"My gut has only ever been wrong once, and I'm marrying him."

He laughed as he slipped his own shoulder holster on over the shirt and grabbed his tie. He never wore a vest, and he could barely tell she was wearing hers. He was grateful she would at least listen about that. He needed to know she was safe. He clipped on the tie, and slipped his gun into the holster before grabbing his jacket.

"Breakfast's ready." Nat shouted up the stairs. He jumped; he'd forgotten the kid, again.

"Does she always do that?"

"Only when it's her morning for breakfast." Dana laughed at him.

"You let a ten year old cook?"

"No, I let her heat up water and get the instant oatmeal ready." She said.

He just shook his head. He reached over and grabbed his badge holder from the dresser and clipped it to his belt. She laughed, and reached over, unclipped it and clipped it to the leather belt of her dress.

"That one's mine." He glanced down and laughed. She was right. He looked around and found his laying on the floor. He was going to have to get organized.

They went down to breakfast; Nat had bowls out, the box of assorted oatmeal and a kettle of hot water on the stove.

"Nat, we're picking you up after lunch." Dana said.

"Why?"

"We discussed this last night; your father and I are getting married."

"TODAY!"

"Why not, Trooper?" He ruffled her hair.

"I don't know, I kinda expected you guys to wait a little while." She said.

"Why?"

"I don't know…I guess…can you really just get married, just like that?"

"Well, I do know a few people." Dana said with a grin.

"MOM!"

"I don't see any reason to wait, Trooper." He looked at Nat, grinning.

"I guess, so after lunch, huh?"

"Yes." Dana said. "Oh and after breakfast, go pack a bag for a couple days, you'll be staying with your grandma."

"EWWWW you guys are going to be GROSS!" She muttered into her oatmeal.

Victor reached over and ruffled her hair again. "Yep."

"Grownups suck."

"NAT!"

"Dana – leave her alone, she's right."

"VICTOR!" He loved listening to her laugh.

XXXXXXXXXXX

She sat in her office, Jackson and Victor BOTH refused to let her out onto the scene. She wanted to be out there, she was a cop, not a paper pusher, damn it. She grumbled and groused and was overridden again, so here she sat, staring at the board.

She kept going over the files. She knew he had to have help – not with the original murders, but with the bombing. He just didn't have the training, or the knowledge to pull something like this off. On his emergency contact sheet from his personnel file, he didn't have a wife listed, but he did have another name, a Daniel McFairlan, a son or a brother, maybe. The computers were back up, finally, and she ran the name through CODIS.

He'd had a few traffic stops, and a military background…and was Thomas McFarlain's son, what really grabbed her attention, was his military MOS – he was Special Forces, and still a member of the National Guard. If he wasn't helping his father, he had the access to get what his father needed to commit this crime. She stood up and walked to Jackson's office.

"I want Daniel McFarlain picked up for questioning." She said.

"McFarlain, the janitor?"

"No, his son."

"Wallis – McFarlain was with the department for years…"

"I know – but Jackson, I KNOW he did this, and I think his son helped."

"Wallis, you better be right." He said, before picking up the radio to call dispatch. They were using dispatch from one of the outlying cities, and volunteers to man it and Dan, her old friend was on the other end. She was glad he'd found something useful to do in this.

"We'll get a unit out there right away."

"Oh, Jackson, Creed and I are taking a long lunch, hope you don't mind."

"We are in the middle of this investigation…."

"And McFarlain can sit on ice for a while." She snapped.

"Fine."

She grinned and went back to her office. He was there waiting.

"Get someone to pick up the janitor?" He was looking at her notes on the board.

"And his son." She said

"Why the son?" He glanced over at her, and she couldn't help smiling at him. He'd taken off the coverall, but hadn't taken time to wash his face.

"He has Special Forces training, and access to both the explosives AND the type of gun used in the sniper attacks." She showed him the ballistics report on the bullet they'd pulled from her shoulder as well as the ones from the other attacks. The chemical analysis from the explosives residue had been on the fax machine this morning, from Quantico.

"We might be able to wrap this thing up." He grinned.

"I hope so, now lets go get that minx and take a long lunch." She grinned back.

"What about the suspects?"

"They can sit on ice till after the wedding."

He laughed and followed her out the door and to his truck.

XXXXXXXXXX

He couldn't believe how nervous he was. She'd said yes, she was right beside him in the truck, Nat in the back seat, and he was still concerned she would change her mind. The courthouse was crowded, and they stood in line for forty five minutes waiting to get the license.

"Do you solemnly swear and affirm that you are both of legal age and have no impediments to this license." The bored clerk asked as they both raised their right hands for the affirmation.

"I do." They said in unison.

"You have thirty days to file this with the court, after that it becomes null and void." She said, stamping the piece of paper and handing it to him. The paper work just had to be signed, and she'd be his – his wife.

She flipped open her cell phone and dialed a number while he was glancing through which judges were in their chambers and might be available for a quick ceremony. Judy and Nat were sitting out in the waiting area outside the clerk's office.

"Nancy, is the judge in his chambers."

"Yeah, it's Dana." He glanced at her. Who was she calling? He just couldn't make out the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, Sid, you up for me calling in a favor?"

"Yeah – got a ceremony that I need performed?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Great, we'll be there in a few." She clicked the phone closed.

"Third floor, Judge Steinman." She said.

He grinned and the four of them entered the elevator. She was actually calling in a favor from a judge so they could get married. Maybe he didn't have any reason to be worried after all.

The older woman at the desk just grinned and ushered them into the office. The judge was a short balding man with a big grin.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day…" He grinned and hugged Dana. Victor bit back the growl. "Judy, how are you doing?"

"Pretty good, Sid, and you?" He watched the interaction between the older couple and realized – they were a couple. Good for Judy.

"So this is the guy, huh?" Sid mock glared at him.

"This is Victor, he's Natalie's father." Dana said.

"WHAT!"

"Yes." The glare turned real.

"SID! I love him, okay, and have for eleven damned years, so can we get this over with…I hate being the only person in my house who ISN'T a Creed." Sid glanced at her and then relaxed.

"So – do you want the standard version, or my own special version?"

"We'll leave the Yiddish out." Dana said with a grin.

"No one wants my special version." He grinned and walked around the desk. "Take your places."

Dana stood to his left and he looked down at her. He hoped what he was feeling wasn't in his face, but knew she'd see it anyway.

"Do you Victor Creed, being of sound…well body anyway, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold in, sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"Do you Dana Wallis, being of sound mind and body, and I'm questioning the sound mind," everyone in the room laughed, "take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, until death do you part?"

"I…" He held his breath, the pause was killing him. "Do."

"Then by the power vested in me by the State of Oklahoma, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You can kiss the bride, but I think it's a little late for that." Sid said with a knowing glare at Nat.

They all laughed and he leaned down and kissed his wife. He handed the judge the certificate, and he signed it, with much grumbling. The clerk, who had come into the room with them signed as a witness, and so did his, now, mother-in-law.

"Now all you have to do is file that downstairs and you're done." Sid said. "Judy, I'm assuming Nat will be joining us for dinner tonight."Judy laughed and nodded. "I'm almost done with this, and I'm taking off for the afternoon anyway."

Victor smiled as he escorted Dana out the door. Nat was in good hands – and he had a wedding night to look forward to.


	12. Chapter 12

Support

I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.

This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.

I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They made it back to the site and the interrogation room only to find it empty. Jackson was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands, not a good sign.

"Someone want to tell me what's going on?" Dana asked.

"McFarlain's not home, no one knows where he is, and the son's in the wind." Jackson said. "I really was hoping you were wrong on this one, Wallis."

"That's Creed now." She said, handing over a copy of the marriage license.

"Just GREAT!" Jackson grumbled. "I guess you two won't mind spending your wedding night on stakeout – if we're gonna get this guy we need to do it NOW!"

Victor groaned and Dana couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll make it up to you." She winked at Creed.

"You damned well better bet you will." He grumbled.

"Who knows – maybe he's just gone to his chemo treatment and we can catch him before dinner." She grinned – looking forward to getting out of the office and back to some real police work.

"I swear I'm gonna lock you up somewhere." Victor grumbled.

"You and what army?" She grinned at him.

"I don't know – I think I MIGHT be able to draft the Marines." He snapped back.

They both laughed, and she ducked into her office to grab her backup piece and the ceramic plates for her vest. This guy had already taken one shot at her, she wasn't going to give him a second chance, but if he got one, she was going to be prepared.

"Creed – vest." She snapped as she came out of her office.

"Never wear one."

"You will if you're going with me."

"Dana…"

"Victor!"

"Fine." He grabbed an extra SWAT vest and pulled it on over his shirt. "I hate these things, and it ain't like I need it anyway."

"I don't care – SOP!" Dana grinned at him in the too short vest. They were going to have to special order him one. She didn't know exactly how strong this healing factor of his was – but she didn't want to have to worry about certain parts of his anatomy growing back…she was really starting to enjoy having him to play with.

"Now that's just NOT fair, Dana." He grumbled as they left the trailer and climbed into his truck.

"What?"

"I can fucking smell you." He snapped as he slammed the door. "And you damned well know we can't do anything about it."

"Poor baby – a little anticipation never hurt anyone." She grinned. She REALLY liked having him to play with. For some strange reason, after signing those papers this afternoon, she felt free, free to allow herself to be with him without guilt, or anger, or fear. She knew for a fact that he'd never been married before – as far as she could tell he'd never been in a relationship before, so this was a little heady for her. He wanted her – badly enough to give up his freedom for forty or fifty years, something there was absolutely no history of him doing – ever.

She noticed him glancing over at him as he drove a puzzled look on his face.

"What's on your mind, Dana?"

"I'm just amazed by you – by the changes in you. Nothing I've ever found out about you indicated you were capable of any of this."

"Any of what?"

"Getting married for one, wanting to settle in one place for years on end for another."

"Maybe I'm just ready to grow up – and settle down." He grinned.

"God I hope so." She grinned back. He pulled up and parked on the street a few houses down from McFarlain's house. She had a feeling he was waiting for them to try something and it worried her. Her gut was screaming that something was wrong.

"Dana – I smell something, and I don't like it."

"Glad I'm not the only one."

"You're smelling explosives and a dead body?"

"No – just something really wrong with this situation."

"Let's go." He got out of the truck, and actually pulled his gun. That worried her more than anything. "Stay behind me." He snapped.

"Hey – who's in charge here?" She snapped back.

"Hey who can HEAL here?" He retorted and shoved her behind him. She couldn't argue that point. The front door of the small house was open and he pushed his way carefully inside.

"Body's that way – explosives that way." He pointed left toward the back of the house first, and then right toward the garage.

"Can that nose of yours give me cause of death?" She quipped.

He sniffed the air again. "Natural – no blood, smells sick, probably the janitor." He muttered as he took off to the right to check the garage.

"Well – thanks for that." She pulled the radio and handset she'd carried with her to call for the coroner when he stopped her.

"Radio signals can set off explosives – let me make sure it's not armed first."

"Right; I'll go check the body."

"No – You'll stay with me until we clear the house – THEN you'll go check the body." He said moving slowly into the living room. The kitchen and dining area were clearly visible, but he still hugged the wall as much as possible before motioning them clear. She took the other wall and cleared the single bedroom off the living room and the hallway into the back of the house. There were three more doors down that hallway, and behind one of them was a body. She motioned her section clear and he moved down the hall taking the first door on the right while she hung back. He motioned it clear, and she moved to the door on the left, which was open. The room was clear but showed evidence of being used recently – along with military uniforms hung in the closet.

She motioned it clear, and he reached for the door handle of the third door. Something made her turn back down the hall, so her back was to him as he suddenly turned and covered her with his body. She didn't really hear the blast – just felt it, it and the impact of every bit of debris as it hit his body. She blacked out. She didn't know how long – but she woke to the smell of smoke, and his heavy weight on her body.

"That was dumb – we should have called the bomb squad first." She muttered, but he didn't respond.

"Vic? VICTOR!" She shouted, rolling under him. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing. She tried to reach up to slap him but realized he had her arm pinned under him – and her hand was wet – hot, wet, thick moisture was dripping onto her palm. He was bleeding, and badly. She tried to push on him with her legs, but the debris from the house had him pinned on top of her.

"Quit, that hurts." He moaned.

"Thank GOD! Are you alright?"

His eyes opened slowly and she winced at the pain in them. "One lung out of commission, severed spine, that will take a couple minutes to grow back, broken hip, punctured kidney, need to get that out of there or I'll heal around it…"

"Do you always do a verbal catalog of injuries?" She asked, almost irritated now that he was talking.

"Only when irritating frails are asking me if I'm alright – damn it, Dana, I'll LIVE; are YOU alright?"

"Well – other than the fact that you have my BAD arm pinned under you, which hurts like hell and I THINK a burn on my left leg, I'll survive."

"I can think of worse ways to spend my wedding night – but not much." He grumbled.

"Well at least you are keeping your sense of humor." She coughed in the smoke.

"Don't talk. I can handle the smoke. Rip off some of my shirt if you can, it's good lawn, it'll make a decent breathing filter until we can either get out of here or someone can get to us."

"Victor."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DANA! I ain't losin ya to smoke inhalation." He grumbled. She realized that he was only moving from the neck up.

"Victor how bad is that spinal injury?"

"Bad." He said.

"Fuck."

"Not any time soon, baby." He grimaced.

She heard noises from beyond the rubble, voices – and felt cold water dripping through the debris.

"HERE!" He shouted, as she covered her face and mouth with the piece of his shirt she'd ripped off. "Get it wet, it will filter better." He growled at her.

"Victor, help's here, sounds like the fire department, we'll be okay."

"Do what you're told, woman. I ain't losin ya to you bein' stupid." His left arm moved a bit as he tried to reach to cover her face.

"I've got it – you just be still."

"It's healing – now quit gripin at me, I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about."

"Victor, that list of injuries…."

"I've healed from worse…remind me ta tell you about the time I was beheaded."

"Tell me that was a joke."

"Yes." He chuckled. "They didn't get the spinal cord severed or I MIGHT have died that time."

"I swear I am going to KILL you myself." She muttered.

"Good luck." A large piece of debris was lifted off of them and light filtered down through the smoke and dust.

"Detective Wallis, Marshall Creed are you both alive?"

"THAT'S DETECTIVE CREED!" She shouted.

"Is there a Marshall Creed?"

"Yes, he's my husband you idiot, and he's hurt." She shouted back.

"Dana!" He growled.

"You said you needed to get whatever was in your kidney out, right – that's going to take a doctor."

"Dana!"

"NO arguing…YOU are going to the HOSPITAL!"

"I am NOT spending my wedding night getting poked and prodded at by a bunch of human doctors that are going to want to experiment on me, it ain't happenin."

He was still grumbling as the fire fighters lifted him off of her. She grimaced as they reached down to pull her out as well. She'd been honest with him, sort of. Her leg was bad. It looked like they would both be spending their wedding night in the hospital.

Dan – along with several other volunteer officers were standing outside the perimeter, ready to get in there and find out what happened. She was sitting in the back of the ambulance as they looked at the burn on her leg when he walked up.

"We caught Daniel McFarlain at the airport, he was skipping town. He confessed to setting the bomb here, and helping his father build the bomb for the station. Thomas died in his sleep last night and Daniel promised him he'd finish his work."

"What work?"

"Cleaning up a mess was all Daniel said – that and taking care of the nosiest woman Thomas had ever met."

"What, did he say who his target was?"

"Yeah – You."

"All of THIS to get to me?"

"Yes."

"Oh My God." She groaned.

"Marshall Creed wants to see you. He keeps trying to pull that piece of wood out of his back. I've never seen anyone heal like that."

"Yeah – well I guess you'll have to get used to it, I think he's sticking around." She said as she limped over to the other ambulance, Dan helping her.

"Dana will you tell these idiots it will be much better if I do this myself." Victor grumbled as he tried to reach the spike of wood sticking out of his back.

"Why don't you let me get that, Baby." She said, grabbing the spike and yanking it out. He howled in pain, and she watched as the wound quickly closed.

"You could have WARNED me. SHIT!" He grumbled, pulling her close against his ruined shirt.

"I think they want to take both of us to the hospital."

"Like hell – I told you, I'm not spending my wedding night in the hospital – and neither are you."

"They have Daniel McFarlain in the county jail, there's nothing you can do until morning." Dan said.

The paramedics griped and complained but Victor won in the end. Her burn wasn't that bad, and it was treatable at home. He'd been back in her life less than a week; she'd been shot, blown up, and never felt more alive. She had no idea what the next fifty years were going to be like, but she didn't doubt it would be interesting.


End file.
